


A Place to Call His Own

by LoveIsEternal



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Fix-It of Sorts, Happiness for Thomas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-13 23:01:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 44
Words: 41,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21240959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveIsEternal/pseuds/LoveIsEternal
Summary: The Crawley Family decides that Thomas deserves happiness, and embarks on a top-secret mission to try to help him.





	1. Robert Is Worried

Lord Grantham took the news of Thomas’ suicide attempt especially hard. He had always tried to provide a workplace that was, if not pleasant (but why _not pleasant?), _at least fair and livable for his staff. Over the years, especially after the war, the lines between Upstairs and Downstairs blurred. His own daughter had married the _chauffeur_, after all, and Tom had proven himself again and again. The Great War, too, had changed things. Downton had certainly made its sacrifices for the war, both family and staff, and the losses were felt deeply by all, either way. Thomas had served honorably for king and country… as did William and Matthew. What was he fighting for, if not the English way of life? If not freedom, and the pursuit of happiness? Was Thomas any less deserving of happiness, just because he was different? Lord Grantham knew several upstanding gentlemen that were like Thomas… gentlemen whose social standing afforded them the luxury to live their lives being, if not _entirely_, at least _**more**_ true to their own natures. And even the lowliest scullery maid had the hope of one day finding true love and marrying. Why should Thomas live his entire life in dedicated service to the Crawley family (which Robert, if he was being honest with himself, hoped Thomas _would_), without any hope at all of future love and happiness? There had to be something he could do.

Lord Grantham climbed into bed next to his wife. His face bore the weight of his thoughts, and Cora knew immediately that something was bothering him. “What’s on your mind tonight, Robert? You’re a million miles away.”

“This business with Barrow,” he replied. “I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Surely you’re not thinking of letting him go _now_, are you?” she asked, a concerned look on her face. “Please let’s just give him a chance to recover and get back on his feet. It’s the only kind thing to do.”__

“That’s just it,” he replied. “I don’t _want_ him to go. I know we’ve made a fuss about cutting back on staff, but I would also like to think that we show the same loyalty to our servants that we expect them to show to us. Barrow has been with us for most of his life. Downton is his home. I just can’t see that it’s the right thing to do to send him away now. And goodness knows that Carson will be near retirement soon, and well-deserved. I was hoping to promote Barrow to butler when the time comes.”

“Robert, I’m so glad to hear that!” Cora said, a gentle smile on her face, reaching out to place her hands on her husband’s. “I feel the same! Thomas may have been difficult in the past, but I believe that underneath it all, he’s just a man trying to make his way in the world, like all of us. I don’t want to put him out. I want to help him.”

“Cora, I don’t want to offend your delicate sensibilities, but there are things about Thomas you may not know. Things that may change how you feel about him.”

“Oh _really_, Robert. How naïve do you think I am? And there’s no need to tiptoe around the subject – I’m an _American_\- we say what we think. You _have_ met my mother, haven’t you?” Cora gave a gentle laugh. “I know that Thomas is a homosexual. I know what that entails. I didn’t grow up in a convent! Not to mention all the men in London who design my gowns and, well… let’s just say I have met a few _delightful_ men who would have more of an eye for _you_ more than for _me_. It doesn’t shock me.”

“Yes, I’ve known some too, my dear. I daresay that at Eton the boys weren’t shy about having a go at each other.”

Cora raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Really? My darling, I never knew! Did you experiment in school as well?”

Robert chuckled. “No… not really. I was kissed once. It didn’t do anything for me. But it did make me realize that such a thing isn’t all that unusual. Some of my best friends….. well… it doesn’t matter now. What matters is that Barrow is a member of this household, and under our care. I would like to see that he feels accepted and valued if I can. And somehow, I want to afford him the opportunity to find happiness, too. Do you have any ideas on how we could do that?”


	2. Cora Has an Idea

As a matter of fact, Cora did have ideas. 

“Robert, what about the cottage on the edge of the estate?”

“The old gardener’s cottage? What of it? It hasn’t been used in years. It’s a relic of a bygone era when Downton could afford a team of gardeners instead of old Grigbsy and few local boys to help for special occasions. It has no modern conveniences.”

“What if we fixed it up? It’s close enough to the house, but far enough away from the other cottages and farms for privacy. We could offer it to Thomas as his home. That way, should he meet someone, he could feel free to spend.. um.. _time_ with them… without fear of being caught out. Lord knows the punishment for such things in this country doesn’t fit the crime. Privacy is of utmost importance.” __

_ _

_ _“My darling,” Lord Grantham replied, “I believe that it could work. However we can’t do this alone. If we’re to make a go of this, we need to involve Mary and Henry. They are the future of Downton. And of course, the staff will wonder about it, too. If Thomas is not to live his life always feeling like he has to hide in the shadows, we cannot keep this a secret. We need to bring everyone on board. I believe that the staff would be supportive, once we explained our reasoning. It will take some planning, and it won’t happen overnight, but with a little doing, I believe we can do right by our Thomas.”_ _

_ _

_ _Cora gave him an approving smile. She had never been more proud of her husband than she was in that moment._ _


	3. The Family Meeting

The family went through to the drawing room after dinner. All were present, less the Dowager and Mrs. Crawley, who only came for dinner on special occasions these days. Edith was in London, but her engagement to Lord Hexham meant that she would be leaving Downton soon anyway. Mary, Tom, and Henry joined Cora and Robert for an after-dinner drink. Lord Grantham made his way over to Carson, who kept silent vigil, ready to spring into action should the family be in need of anything. “Carson,” he softly spoke, “would you be so kind as to leave us for a while? We have to discuss a matter of some delicacy.”

“Of course, m’Lord. But I do hope that you’re not implying that I lack discretion. Anything said in my presence is kept in the utmost confidence. I would never betray Your Lordship in that way.”

“Certainly not, Carson!” Lord Grantham replied. “Nothing like that! You’ve been a _bastion_ of discretion. And I suspect that this will involve you and the others soon enough.”

“As you wish, m’Lord. I will make sure that the entire staff know not to bother you. Please ring should you require anything further.”

“Thank you, Carson.”

* * * * * * *

“Crikey!” Mary exclaimed. “What on earth could be so secretive as to require dismissing Carson? I daresay he’s seen the worst this family has to offer!”

Cora was the first to speak. “My dears, your father and I have something we’d like to discuss with you. It involves all of us, and so we need to all be on the same page.”

“Goodness, how _mysterious_!” Mary nervously chuckled. ”I do hope it’s nothing bad. Please tell me we’re not throwing in the towel and selling Downton to become a girls’ boarding school or something equally horrid.” She was only partially joking. Downton’s financial future was concerning at best.

“Nothing so bad as all that, I assure you,” Lord Grantham replied. “But this will involve a financial sacrifice.”

“I don’t like the sound of _that_,” Mary added, “but do go on, Papa. I’m all ears….”

“It concerns Barrow. I think we all realize he’s been in a bad way as of late. His recent… _scare_…. has highlighted for me how just very bleak it all must seem for a man with his… _inclinations_. I hope I do not speak of anything that comes as a shock or surprise to any of you.”

“Not to me, at least,” injected Tom. “I’ve known several men like Barrow. Most are harmless and are just trying to survive. I don’t think men like that can help how they are. They’re just trying to make the best of the hand that’s been dealt them. Of course, it’s easier for them in a big city. It has to be very isolating to be so…. _different_…. out here in the country where there’s no anonymity.”

“I agree,” added Henry. “I’ve come across a few _dandy chaps_ myself along the way…. and other than having to let them down gently that I’m not interested in being friends _in that way_, they’ve been nothing but polite. I can’t see the harm, as long as they’re discreet.”

“Goodness, Papa, it’s the 1920’s! You’d think it was 1850 by the way you speak! Now if Granny were here, we might need to worry about ‘shock’ and ‘surprise’. And if the war has taught us anything, it’s that life is precious. If Barrow felt the need to end his, the depth of his sadness is something we can no longer ignore.”

“Mary, I’m not sure you give your grandmother enough credit!” Cora said. “She may espouse Victorian values, but she’s seen quite a lot in her day. And even I must admit that when the chips are down, Violet can be surprising in her level of compassion.”

“I think we can safely say then,” stated Lord Grantham, ”that Barrow is a homosexual, and that it doesn’t shock or disturb any of us."

“Agreed. Now that we’ve established the facts, what is it you wanted to say about it?” asked Mary. “Surely we can’t dismiss him for _that_. He’s been a loyal employee for years… decades, even.”

“That’s just it,” Lord Grantham continued. “How many of us, above or below stairs, would be expected to live out our lives as a _eunuch_, never experiencing love? Even Carson and Mrs. Hughes are married! How can we expect a young man like Barrow to serve us happily, when a big part of his life is empty? Shouldn’t he at least be allowed to look for love? To find happiness with another human being?”

“How very _modern_ you are, Papa! What a surprise! I must say I agree with you! But the Church calls such actions a _sin_, and the law calls them a _crime_. Are we to ignore both the Church and the Law?” And how do we know that that's _why_ Barrow tried to kill himself? Has anyone asked him?

“Not _ignore_, Mary, no,” chimed in Cora. “We must be very aware of the societal implications. But laws change, and even our understanding of sin has changed over time. I’m convinced that someday both the law and the Church will come to see that love between any two persons is still _love._ But you make a good point, Mary. Someone needs to _talk_ to Thomas.

“So what would you have us do?” Mary pressed. “How can we help Barrow while still being aware of the implications?”

“Your father has an idea,” Cora replied. “But for it to work, we must all be on board. As the future caretakers of Downton, you must agree to it. And it will take a sacrifice to bring it to reality.”

“What did you have in mind?” asked Tom. He didn’t actually have a financial stake in Downton, but as the estate agent, this concerned him as well. And as a former “outcast” himself, Tom took a personal interest in helping another man find a sense of belonging. He wanted to help in whatever way possible.

“The old gardener’s cottage on the north edge of the estate,“ Lord Grantham offered. “We thought that perhaps we could fix it up, and offer it to Barrow as his own home. It’s close enough to the house to walk to work, yet far enough away that it would afford him a bit of privacy. If he ever did decide to settle down with a special someone, they could continue to live there. If the law ever came to inquire, I could easily convince them that the cottage was serving as additional staff quarters.”

“Fixing up that old cottage would take a considerable investment, Papa!” countered Mary. “It has no electricity, no running water! How ever would we pay for such a thing?”

“Sending one painting to auction would cover the whole expense,” replied Cora. It’s a sacrifice your father and I are willing to make. The question is- as the mother of the future Earl of Grantham- _are you_?”

“If it means the happiness of one of our own, then _**absolutely**_ I am. And it’s still an investment in the estate. If Barrow leaves, the cottage remains, fully modernized and ready to rent. I say ‘Let’s do it!’ But let’s not say anything until it’s done… we’ll present it to Barrow as a surprise, ready to move in.”

“Once we’re ready, we’ll have to talk to the staff. I know there’s a general feeling of camaraderie downstairs, but Barrow has not exactly _endeared_ himself to the others. We need to have a heartfelt talk with them about what we’re hoping to achieve, and how we will rely on their discretion and empathy in order to make this work. If any staff feel that they cannot support the plan, they could easily make trouble. We need to ensure that we’re in this together,” Lord Grantham explained.

“Of course we’ll need to do that at a time when Barrow is not around. How would we accomplish that?” Mary asked. “Not to mention that Yorkshire is not exactly a _cosmopolitan capitol of modern love_. How would Barrow ever expect to meet a suitable _friend_ around here?”

“I was thinking,” replied Lord Grantham, “that I would take Barrow up to London soon when I’m due to serve in the House of Lords. We could stay at Grantham House. I would be engaged enough of the time that it would allow Thomas to get out a bit… to explore places where men like him go to meet. I can even ask around with some friends of mine… I’m sure some of them are aware of discreet clubs that cater to _a certain sort_ of clientele. I could also use that time to have a man-to-man talk with Barrow... to try to ascertain what brought him to such despair.

“Oh Papa, you’re simply _marvelous_!” exclaimed Mary. “This is all so exciting! We’re on a top-secret mission! What can I do to help?”

“We all have our part to play,” answered her father. “Mary, I would like you and your mother to tour the house and decide which painting you can part with. Once decided, contact Sotheby’s, and get it on the auction block. We will need capital if we wish to begin renovations on the cottage. Tom, contact local contractors. Arrange for them to visit the cottage as soon as possible to begin their assessment. I would like work to begin at their earliest convenience.”

“What can I contribute?” asked Henry. “I’d like to help if I can.”

“Take Barrow to Ripon as soon as he’s up to it,” replied Lord Grantham. Have him fitted for some new suits… nothing too formal, but something sharp and modern. Tell him that he will require them if he’s to accompany me to London in the coming months. That shouldn’t raise too many red flags.”

“And for now,” added Cora, “we say nothing to the staff. When Papa and Barrow leave for London, Mary and I will call a staff meeting downstairs. Until then, _mum’s the word_.”

“Such _intrigue_!” cooed Mary. “We all know our duties. On that note, I’m going up for the night. Henry?”

“And following Mary up is _my_ duty,” laughed Henry suggestively… “but such a heavenly one.”

“Don’t be _vulgar_, darling!” smiled Mary, taking his hand and leading him out of the room.

And on that happy note, the plan was put into motion.


	4. Off to Ripon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm aware of the historical inaccuracies of this story. In real life, there were formal boundries between the family and the servants that weren't easily crossed. This is how I *wish* it would be, and so it is.

Thomas’ recovery was going nicely. Within a week, he was back on his feet, fulfilling his duties as under-butler of Downton Abbey. He had done a bit of soul-searching since his… episode…. and he had come to some important conclusions. The first was that he did, in fact, want to live. The second was that the people he shared Downton Abbey with – both the staff and the Crawleys – were the closest thing to family that he had. He knew that if wanted to stop being at war with the world- and himself- he had to try to embrace them. And that meant letting himself be vulnerable. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for it, but the alternative surely didn’t work. Being at odds with everyone almost cost him his life. He decided to try being nicer. As the weeks went by, he heard talk in the servant’s hall about renovations being made on the estate. This was not remarkable… a large estate with many outbuildings often had work being done. With the future feasibility of Downton always in the balance, it would not be unlikely that any and all cottages would have to pull their weight by bringing in rent. He thought nothing more about it.

A few months later, Lord Grantham announced to Carson that he would soon be traveling to London for a three-week stay at Grantham House.

“Very good, m’Lord. I shall inform Mr. Bates to make ready for the trip. Will her Ladyship be joining you?”

“Not this time, Carson. And if you don’t mind, I would like Barrow to accompany me on this trip. I’m sure Bates would rather stay behind with Anna and the baby.”

“That’s highly unusual, sir, if you don’t mind me saying. Taking the under-butler in place of your valet. Mr. Bates knows that travel is expected in his position.”

“Not that unusual, Carson. You’ll recall that Barrow served as my valet while Bates was away. And given the age of the baby, I expect it would be a hardship for him to be away so long. This will also give Barrow a chance to experience some of the sights in London. Surely you wouldn’t begrudge a young man such an opportunity?”

Carson stiffened his posture and let out an audible “_hmph_.” He could only imagine the “_sights_” that might await a man like Thomas. “Very well, m’Lord. I shall inform Mr. Barrow straight away.”

* * * * * * *

“Mr. Barrow….” bellowed Carson later that morning in the servant’s hall. “I shall see you in my office at once.”

“Yes, Mr. Carson.” Thomas’ heart sank, though he maintained his steely blank expression. He couldn’t think of anything he’d done wrong recently, so he assumed this could only mean one thing: now that he was feeling better, it was expected that he would continue his search for employment elsewhere. Prior to his _incident_, Carson had been only too eager to remind him that his services at the Abbey were no longer required. A lifetime of service, for nothing. No gratitude. No loyalty. He braced himself as he entered the room.

“Close the door, Mr. Barrow.” **_Shit_**. This couldn’t be good.

Thomas stood at attention and stared straight ahead, bracing himself for the worst. He had been here before. He was becoming numb to this kind of pain and disappointment… at least he _thought_ he was before he tried to…. nevermind that now. “What is it, Mr. Carson? What have I done now?”

“I’m sure I don’t know,” Carson replied… stuffy and condescending as always. “But for some reason, his Lordship has deigned you worthy to accompany him on his upcoming trip to London. It will be for three weeks. While there, you will serve as his valet, chauffeur, and the butler of Grantham House. Do you feel up to the task, Mr. Barrow? I expect only the most glowing reports upon your return, or the status of your reference will be in question. Do I make myself clear?”

“Perfectly clear, Mr. Carson.” Thomas tried to hide the smile that was bubbling up in his chest. A feeling of glee pervaded him. Three weeks in London. The _possibilities_! And yet he couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that this was a precursor to something else… his “last hurrah” before he was expected to pack his bags and move along. A mixed blessing. He shook those thoughts away. “One day at a time,” he thought.

“Is that all, Mr. Carson?” he asked.

“Not quite, Mr. Barrow. Mr. Talbot asked if I could spare you this afternoon for a trip into Ripon. I have no idea why, but he insisted that it be you. Of course I had to agree. I am not pleased, of course, but the needs of the family are my first priority. Please be ready to go by one.”

“I shall, Mr. Carson. Thank you.”

**_“Hmph”_** replied Carson.

* * * * * * * *

The trip to Ripon was strange. Thomas had no idea what he was doing there. Mr. Talbot had never taken an interest in him before. They drove in awkward silence. Thomas knew that as a servant, he was not to speak until spoken to.

“Lovely day, isn’t it, Barrow?” Henry asked.

Small talk is it then? That’s what’s expected? What a strange new world they were living in, after the war. Strange indeed.

“Yes sir, indeed it is, sir. Spring is the loveliest season in Yorkshire.” Thomas spoke without ever shifting his gaze from the road ahead.

Upon arriving in Ripon, Henry parked outside an expensive tailor shop where Thomas knew that Lord Grantham had commissioned clothing from in the past. He wondered why he was here.

“Shall I wait in the car, sir, while you go in?” asked Thomas.

“Certainly _not_!” replied Henry. “I value your opinion!”

Thomas could only wonder if perhaps Downton was updating its servant’s livery, and he was there to try them out. Strange that Henry would be tasked with this errand, but perhaps his Lordship was trying to include him in the running of the estate. They entered the shop.

“Ah! Here we are!” welcomed Mr. Rothchild, the proprietor. “I’ve been expecting you!”

Henry stepped forward to shake Mr. Rothchild’s hand.

“Mr. Rothchild, let me present Mr. Barrow, the Under-butler of Downton Abbey. He will be accompanying His Lordship to London for the upcoming legislative session, and he needs to be outfitted in attire suitable for London society.”

”Excuse me, sir,” interrupted Thomas, “but surely you mean suitable to _serve_ his Lordship while he attends his society affairs.”

“I’m afraid not, Barrow,” replied Henry, barely hiding a smirk. “I’m under strict instructions to see that you obtain clothing in the latest London fashion so that you may comfortably accompany His Lordship wherever he chooses to go. He wishes that you appear to be a companion on this trip, more than a servant. He must have his reasons.”

Thomas was in complete shock. This couldn’t be right. This was highly unusual… he was always expected to buy his own clothing. It would take more than a _year’s wages_ to afford the kind of suit His Lordship was having made for him here. Something was amiss. Perhaps this was His Lordship’s final kindness before forcing him out. His heart froze. But he had no choice but to follow Mr. Rothchild into the fitting room. At least he would have a proper suit to be buried in. At least he would have that.


	5. Aren't You Getting on the Train?

Thomas and Lord Grantham stood on the platform of the train station. They were catching the early train to London. As boarding began, Thomas helped Lord Grantham climb aboard the First Class carriage.

“Very good, Your Lordship. Enjoy the trip. I will see you on the platform in London to collect your bags.”

“Where are you going, Barrow? Why are you not getting on the train?” Robert asked, a look of mock confusion on his face. He knew as well as Thomas that servants did _not_ accompany their masters in First Class.

Thomas was perplexed. He didn’t understand Lord Grantham’s question.

”Pardon me, m’Lord… I will certainly be getting on the train. It should only take me a moment to walk down to Third Class. I won’t be holding up the departure.”

”You misunderstand me, Barrow! Forgive me! What I meant to say is, _Please join me in here_. I have booked us a private compartment. I think you’ll enjoy the accommodations in First Class!” There was a discernable twinkle in Lord Grantham’s eyes.

Thomas could not believe his ears. Had the world turned upside-down? What was happening that he had suddenly found favor with His Lordship? He thought of the only other times when the Great Divide between _gentleman_ and _servant_ had been crossed….

The first had been his affair with Philip, the Duke of Crowborough. Philip (and yes, he had called him “Philip”), insisted that in bedroom, at least, they were equals. _More_ than equals, in fact…. Philip seemed to _worship_ Thomas in bed. Never had Thomas felt so loved and cherished… never had he felt so strongly that _anything_ was possible. If Philip could love him, then he truly was worth something. With Philip, he dared to dream… dream of a better life where two men could express their love and live together without fear. He really believed that Philip loved him. What a fool he had been! He realized, now (too late… ) that what they shared wasn’t love, and wasn’t equality. Men like Thomas and Philip shared _one thing,_ of course, and that was their need to hide. Fear of exposure was the great equalizer. But as soon as the blush of passion faded, when the _afterglow_ had dimmed, all returned to as it was. In the end, Thomas was still a servant, his body the service. He bristled at the thought.

The second time was in the War. The ravages of battle showed how unimportant man-made divisions were. In the trenches, men were just men. They ate together, laughed together, cried together, even _died_ together. They were brothers in arms. Once the war ended, however, things seemed to return to the way they were. At least it seemed so for a while.

He understood that the world was changing; that a sense of equality was emerging amongst the common people… a sense that they were no less than the nobility that had ruled England for so long. He _understood_ it, like you understand geography or maths. But it didn’t apply to _him._ He had lived his life in service… he knew nothing else. He may not be as set in his ways as _Carson,_ but he wasn’t a socialist, either. He didn’t see himself making the transition from servant to _gentleman_ anytime soon. He knew his place (Third Class), and he was comfortable maintaining those boundaries. This topsy-turvy world of wearing expensive suits and sitting in First Class put him on edge. He was being set up for _something_… he knew it. At any time, the axe would fall. Even so, he was obedient. He climbed aboard the First Class coach, claiming the finely upholstered seat across from Lord Grantham. “As you wish, sir,” he offered.


	6. The Train to London

Thomas stared out the windows of the train as the English countryside flew by. It really _was_ beautiful. The silence between himself and Lord Grantham grew more awkward by the minute. Eventually, Lord Grantham cleared his throat, as if to speak.

”Yes, well, Barrow, I’m sure you’re wondering what’s going on,” Lord Grantham offered.

”It had occurred to me, m’Lord, yes,” Thomas replied, nervously. “I’m not sure what I have done to deserve your recent generosity. Not that you are not _always_ generous, m’Lord. You are. Of course you are.”

Lord Grantham smiled kindly. “Please be at ease around me, Barrow, at least for this trip. It will seem odd at first, but I’d like us to try. Call me ‘Robert,’ and I shall call you ‘Thomas’ – just for this trip, mind you.”

Thomas immediately remembered the Duke of Crowborough asking him to “please call me _Philip_.” Horror filled his chest – could Lord Grantham be _attracted_ to him? Was this entire trip a _ruse_ to get him alone in Grantham House so that he could seduce him or demand sexual favors? Could he have misjudged Lord Grantham all these years? He entertained these thoughts only for a moment. The mere idea of it was preposterous. Lord Grantham was nothing but _kind_. Whatever his proclivities (and Thomas had no reason to assume anything other than Lord Grantham being a devoted and loving husband to Lady Grantham), he would never _use_ another person in that way. Thomas was ashamed that he considered it, even briefly.

”I don’t understand, m’Lord… erm… _Robert_” (he could barely get the name out)… “Why are we doing this? I mean no disrespect, of course, but this is highly irregular. I don’t know what to make of it.”

”Of course, Thomas, you wouldn’t… it’s not been done before. And I apologize for springing this on you. I daresay you look like a frightened deer.” Lord Grantham’s eyes were soft as it he said it. Thomas just sat silently and waited.

Lord Grantham continued. “It occurred to me, Thomas, that I’ve never gotten to know you, properly. We’ve had the odd conversation about cricket or cufflinks, of course, but I’ve never gotten to know you as a _person_. You’ve spent the majority of your life under my roof, after all. When did you come to us? 1909? 10?” He smiled as if remembering a happier time. “You were just a boy. I feel a sense of… _responsibility_ for you. Tell me, Thomas, if you’ll allow me to ask… is your father still alive?”

”He is, sir, yes. He lives in Manchester. He’ll be getting up in years now.”

”Have you been home to see him? I can’t recall you taking any time off to make a trip to Manchester.”

”You’re observant, sir. I have not. I haven’t seen my father in many years. I don’t believe he misses me, though. He has my sister to look after him.”

”And why do you think he doesn’t miss you, Thomas? I’m sure he’s proud of you…"

”He’s not. At least, he never _was_. He couldn’t see past the fact that I … _am like I am_….” (does Lord Grantham **_know_**? Did Carson tell him when the business with Jimmy happened? He remembered that Lord Grantham intervened when the police came looking for him at the cricket match. Did he know why they had come? Surely he _must_. Deep breath. Keep your head up. Remember, he’s _kind_). “There was an incident, you see. He caught me in a … _situation_… with a… friend… and he dragged me home. He whipped me to within an inch of my life. He said if it ever happened again, he would kill me. I believe he would have, sir.”

”_Robert,” _Lord Grantham gently corrected.

”Robert.” Thomas stared down at his lap. Looking Lord Grantham in the eye seemed an impossible task just now.

”And so you left? You risked the security of home and hearth so that you could be true to yourself? I would say that takes _courage_, Thomas. And yet, have you been able to be yourself, truly, at Downton? Surely the ever-watchful eye of Mr. Carson does not let much get past."

”Not really, sir…erm… Robert. People don’t like me. And when people don’t like you, they will do what they can to _hurt_ you. I can’t be myself, because it will be used against me. And the punishment for _being myself_ is prison or _worse._ And so I seek out their secrets, so that I have leverage when they inevitably use what they know against me. It’s a vicious cycle. It’s hardly worth the risk. And yet, living without any affection at all makes me bitter and angry. It lead me to despair. The incident when I slit my wrists… I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to cause such a fuss… but I didn’t see a way out. I can live without love… I have done for quite some time… but it’s living without the _hope of ever having love_ that I couldn’t bear. I’m still not quite sure I can bear it, but I will try. I promise I will try.” Thomas lifted his eyes from his lap to meet Robert’s.

Lord Grantham felt that his fatherly heart was going to break. There was a literal ache in his chest at hearing Thomas’ words. He had no idea of the depth of feeling this man was capable of.

”No man should have to live without the hope of love, my dear boy. Has there been no one special, _ever_? Of course you don’t have to answer that, Thomas. I’m sorry.”

”No- it’s alright. There was someone once. Someone you _knew_, in fact. The Duke of Crowborough.”

”What? The _Duke_? Are you sure? Could it have been a misunderstanding?”

Thomas blushed. “Quite sure. The season in London when Lady Edith came out. Philip…erm… the _Duke_… invited me to his bed on no less than 10 occasions. He wrote me letters. He swore his love. He broke it off with me the night he came to see Lady Mary a few years back. But not before he offered me one last opportunity to… well… “

”Yes! I get the point. Well that explains his reluctance to wed Lady Mary! I’m a bit relieved, I must say. They wouldn’t have been well suited after all, it would seem.” Lord Grantham let out a small chuckle. It immediately put Thomas at ease. After all he had just said, Lord Grantham could still laugh. Thomas felt the walls around his heart begin to crumble, just a little.

Lord Grantham met Thomas’ stare again, with kind eyes and an indulgent smile. He reached out his hand to touch his forearm. Thomas stiffened almost imperceptibly. He was not used to being touched. He didn’t pull away.

”Thomas, I want you to know that you _are_ loved. Lady Grantham… _Cora_… and I are _very_ fond of you. You know I’ve never had a son. Matthew is the closest I’ve ever come to having one, and losing him nearly crushed my heart.”

”We all felt the loss deeply, sir. He was well-liked downstairs.”

”Yes. Well. _Thank you_. The truth is, I never realized how much I could love a son. Oh daughters are fine… I adore them all… but a son… there’s something special about the relationship a son has with his father. Or _should_ have. I’m sorry, Thomas. I know your relationship with your father was troubled. But I don’t think it was from lack of _love_. You see, men don’t know what to make of… homosexuality… _let’s just say it_….and they’re afraid. They’re afraid for you, and what could happen to you. And they’re afraid of what others will think of _them_ as men. None of that excuses how your father treated you. But it may explain it. I think you must make peace with your father before too long. I would be happy to come with you. I would love to tell him about all of your many contributions to our household. For goodness sakes, you saved my daughter from the fire in her room! You found Isis when she was missing! My grandchildren adore you! And let’s not forget you have a wonderful knack for entertaining visiting Dukes!” Lord Grantham laughed. Thomas bristled when Robert thanked him for finding Isis. Isis wouldn’t have been missing in the first place if he hadn't taken her into the woods. He considered telling him, now that they were sharing so openly… then he reconsidered. (Some things are unforgivable).

”That’s very kind of you,” Thomas replied. “I may take you up on that. My father would never raise his voice, _or his hand_, to me in your presence.”

”And as I was saying, Thomas, after losing Matthew, I didn’t think I could feel that way again. But then Tom… _Branson_, of course… showed me that I can. I didn’t expect to have such affection for Tom, but he’s proven himself again and again to be a devoted member of our family. When he left for America, he took part of me with him! Having him back has been the greatest gift."

Thomas nodded sadly. “Yes, I can see why that is. I have a great deal of respect for Mr. Branson. He’s a lucky man to have earned your high esteem.”

”But don’t you see, Thomas? Branson was a servant, too! Yes, he married my daughter, and I was _none too pleased_ about that, I can assure you! But he won me over… he showed me that the class distinctions that we cling to mean less and less as the years go by. Now that Lady Sybil is gone, Tom must stand on his own merits. And he has. I’m filled with affection for Tom. I can truly call him my son.”

Thomas felt a pang of jealousy. To have the respect and the affection of Lord Grantham was no small thing. But Thomas would never be wed to a Crawley daughter. He couldn’t replicate Branson’s recipe for success.

Lord Grantham watched Thomas’ expressions thoughtfully. He could read his face enough to know exactly what he was feeling. “Thomas, I want you to reconcile with your father, but I’m not naïve enough to believe that it will go exactly as you hope. And as much I would like to think Carson would be a father-figure to you, I don’t believe that he can fill that role either. That is why I would like to offer _myself_ for the job. I’d like to be there for you, to be someone you can confide in. It would take a bit of trust on your part, if you can manage that. Do you think you could?”

Thomas’ eyes filled with tears. His chest was tight, and he didn’t think he could speak. Hell, he could barely _breathe_. No one had ever been so nice to him before. No one that didn’t expect something in return. All Lord Grantham was asking for was trust. But he didn’t know if he could risk giving it. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tears away. Instead, they rolled gently down his cheeks.

”I’m sorry, Thomas. I may have said too much. Why don’t we order lunch and discuss what we’ll do in London.”

”You haven’t said too much, Robert. I don’t know what to say. Of _course_ I trust you. Of _course_ I would welcome your fatherly concern. I’m overwhelmed with your offer. Thank you, sir. And forgive me, for everything.”

”I see nothing to forgive, my boy. Nothing at all.” He took Thomas’ hand with both of his, and squeezed it tightly. Thomas met his eyes again, and Robert smiled and nodded. Thomas gave him a gentle smile and nod in return.


	7. Cottage Preparations and Arrival in London

Back at the Abbey, preparations for the cottage were progressing right on schedule. The renovations were complete, and all that remained were the furnishings and the décor. Mary and Cora were on hand for the delivery of the bed.

”Goodness!” exclaimed Mary. I do believe this bed is grander than mine! I didn’t know they _made_ beds so big!”

Cora laughed. “This was my contribution. I assumed he would need…. _well…_ need a bit more room than the standard issue servant’s cot…. _Help me with the sheets…._”

Mary raised an eyebrow. “Imagine how scandalized Carson would be if he knew what we were up to! I’m not sure which is worse in his eyes: the fact that we’re giving a cottage to Barrow, or the fact that we’re making the bed ourselves!”

“I daresay they’ll _all_ know soon enough!” Cora replied. “We have to meet with the staff before they return from London. Speaking of…. I wonder how your father is making out with Thomas? He hasn’t called yet to give me a report.”

”Knowing Papa, he’ll wait till the train ride home! I think we’re about done here… now we wait. And figure out what we’re going to say to the staff…. “

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

In London, Lord Grantham and Thomas had arrived at Grantham House, which stood empty and quiet. Cora had intentionally _not_ informed the London staff to open the house. This was part of the plan…. both Lord and Lady Grantham wanted to afford Thomas a bit of privacy while in London. Lord Grantham had not yet outlined his plan to Thomas, however.

”Pardon me, sir, but where are the staff?” asked Thomas. “I know I’m to be the butler, valet, and chauffeur, but surely there would be a maid and a cook about…?”

”Actually Thomas, I thought we’d experience London a little differently, this time. Dine on the town, try new things. I’ll be gone a good deal of the time, and I want you to feel that Grantham House is a place for you to come and go from, freely, without prying eyes watching your every movement. I’ll be leaving you the keys. Don’t be alarmed if I don’t always return home at night… I have Rosamund’s to go to, and the Club. I’ll check in from time to time… perhaps a phone call in the afternoons to let you know my plans. And I do not _need_ a butler, chauffeur, _or_ a valet. Rosamund has graciously offered to send her car ‘round for me when I need it.”__

_ __ _

_ __ _

Thomas was flabbergasted. It would seem that he was brought to London under false pretenses… he assumed he would be serving Lord Grantham in all capacities, wearing many hats. In truth, he would be wearing _none_ (except for the stylish new hat that Henry had purchased for him that day in the gentleman's haberdashery in Ripon). He didn’t understand why he was there at all.

”M’Lord…”

_”Robert”_

”Yes, _Robert”_ (this would never roll off his tongue), “I don’t understand why I was brought here. Are you saying I have no duties at all? That I am at my leisure to explore London, and to come and go from Grantham House, at my own discretion?”

”That’s the gist of it, yes. I apologize for being so _cloak and dagger_. The family and I, _all of us_, really, wished to give you a _vacation_ of sorts. You’ve _earned it,_ Thomas. And you’ve earned my trust. I know you would not bring any undesirables here. Anyone who would steal from me, or who would hurt you.”

There it was. **Undesirables.** _People like him._ Thomas stiffened and looked at the ground.

**”Stop it**, Thomas, _I know that look_. I didn’t mean that you couldn’t have guests. I meant that you must be _careful_ who you bring to this house. You’ll be vulnerable here alone. I can stay here with you, if you’d like, or we can play it by ear. The bottom line is, I’d like you to meet people whom you would consider _friends_ as well as potential…lovers.” It was obvious that this was as uncomfortable for Lord Grantham as it was for Thomas.

The truth was that Thomas was terribly embarrassed that they were even _having_ this conversation. His love life (or lack of one), had always been something to be ashamed of… to hide. Any tryst… any encounter… was the stuff of shadows and dark alleys… certainly not something to be _paraded in_ through the front door of Grantham House. He couldn’t wrap his head around this new openness with Lord Grantham. He couldn’t understand this new-found concern for his happiness. It was disconcerting. But if he was honest with himself, it was also a relief. He never had an ally… someone who would look out for him. It would take some getting used to, but he was willing to try, uncomfortable conversations be damned. If Lord… _Robert_… was willing to step so far out of his comfort zone for _him_, he owed it to him to try.

”Let’s go to dinner, Thomas… I know just the place.”

The look of bewilderment remained on Thomas' face. Lord Grantham smiled to himself.


	8. A Night on the Town

The first night in London with Lord Grantham was unlike anything Thomas had ever experienced. It was a Friday, so there was no need to keep early hours. Robert did not begin his official duties in the House of Lords until Monday. The weekend was filled with possibilities. After changing into one of his smart new suits, Thomas and Robert climbed into the back of Rosamund’s Bentley. Thomas had no idea where they were going. 

Within minutes, the car came to a stop in front of the Ritz hotel. Young men in uniform advanced to open their doors. Their faces were blank as they looked off into the distance. Thomas felt self-conscious. He identified more with the young men than he did with the other patrons. He felt sure that everyone was staring at him, wondering what he was doing there. He was wondering the same thing himself. 

Lord Grantham sensed his unease. “Don’t worry, Thomas, we won’t do this _every_ night. This is my special treat to you. Look around... tell me what you see.” 

“I see lords and ladies. People of society and high-birth. Not people like me.”

“You only think that, Thomas, because they’re dressed in expensive clothes, which I might add, _so are you_. I can tell you right now that most of the people you see in here tonight are _not _nobility. Oh, they have _money_, to be sure. But their money came from business or trade. They are no better than you. I would wager that your training at Downton has given you better manners than most of them. What I’m trying to say, Thomas, is that _you have every right to be here._ And I want you to enjoy it.” 

“I feel like everyone is looking at me.” 

“If everyone is looking at you, it’s because you look jolly _dashing_ in that suit. I believe every lady is admiring you, and every gentleman is secretly envious of you. And I dare say there’s at least a few gentlemen here tonight that are envious of _me, _for being here with you_._” He smiled warmly. Thomas’ confidence lifted. The last time he heard such high praise was when Philip… (don’t think of it. Not now.) He resolved to at least play the part of gentleman… to make a game of it and _pretend_. He found this remarkably helpful, and the dinner passed pleasantly. 

After dinner, Robert surprised him with tickets to the theatre. Thomas had been to the pictures, of course, but never to a live performance. They sat in Lord Grantham’s private box, and enjoyed an excellent view of the stage. Thomas was transfixed. He had never seen anything so beautiful and magical. He felt like he was in a dream. It was certainly a night he would never forget. 

On the ride home, Lord Grantham asked Thomas what he thought of his big night out in London. 

“It’s strange, m’Lord… sorry… _Robert,” _(this will _never_ feel right)… “but I can’t help but notice that in society circles, when two men go to dinner or to the theatre, no one blinks an eye. But if two blokes in my social circle were to do the same, everyone would assume we were _fancy boys_ and whisper behind our backs. They might even call the police. You can see why it drives us into the shadows.” 

“Life is filled with double standards, Thomas… that’s just an unfortunate truth. I can’t change the way the world works. I can only offer you a respite from the struggle from time to time. And I can do my best to see that in _my _house, on _my_ estate, you are treated fairly and with respect.” 

“That’s more than I’ve ever dared to wish for, sir, and I’m grateful. Thank you for your kindness.” 

The night ended at Grantham House, with Thomas climbing into the most comfortable bed he had ever seen. He fell into a peaceful sleep, and dreamed of a better world. 


	9. Do I Know You?

On Sunday, Lord Grantham took Thomas to dinner at the club. Although it was for nobility only, it was not unusual for gentlemen to bring the occasional guest; usually an out-of-town relative or important business associate. More unusual (_unheard of_, actually) was for a gentleman to bring his valet. But it was a time for testing boundaries. Thomas was dressed in his finest. Lord Grantham introduced him as a “friend of the family… more like a son to me, really.” Thomas felt a warmth spread across his chest.

From across the room, the Duke of Crowborough sipped his scotch. There was a buzz of excitement in London when Parliament was in session, and he hated to miss it. It always brought in so many new faces from across the whole of England. There where deals to be made, advice to be had. And if he was honest, he looked forward to getting away from his bride and their infant daughter. Marriage may have been his duty, but his heart wasn’t in it. His interests lie elsewhere. Like in the handsome young man seated at the table with the Earl of Grantham. He decided to wander over and say hello.

“I _say_, Lord Grantham! So good to see you again, old chap! It’s always exciting when old friends come back to London!” He was addressing Robert, but Thomas felt that the words were meant for him. 

Robert’s back stiffened. “Ah, Duke… you look well. Marriage must agree with you. And congratulations on the birth of your daughter.”

“Yes, well. Thank you. _You know how it can be_. You love them, but it’s always good to get away for while, isn’t it?” He gave Robert a knowing wink. “And _you_,” he remarked, addressing Thomas finally, as if an afterthought, “you look familiar. _Do I know you?_ Wait, I know… you were the _footman_ who served as my valet during my visit to Downton Abbey some years back. How strange to see you _here_, of all places. Don’t you agree, Lord Grantham?”

Thomas felt his whole body turn cold. He assumed the dead stare that was required of a servant. “Good evening, _Your Grace_.”

“Not so strange, Duke,” replied Lord Grantham, coming to the rescue, “as Barrow is my guest this evening. I’ve brought him with me to London in a kind of unofficial capacity. A _vacation_, if you will.”

“How _delightful!_ What a _magnanimous_ employer you are, Robert! How long will you be staying? The session in Parliament lasts at least three weeks… are you here the whole time?”

“Yes, I’ll be tied up most of the time, but Thomas… um… Barrow… is at liberty to explore London and see the sights. It’s so rare that he has an opportunity to get away like this.”

“Free all day, then, Barrow? _Lovely_. I do hope you find plenty to do to occupy your time.” Philip’s voice was virtually _dripping _with inuendo. Thomas continued his dead stare.

“Excuse me for a moment while I go speak to an old school chum,” Lord Grantham announced. He walked across the room, leaving the Duke of Crowborough alone with Thomas. Thomas glared at him. “**_Do I know you_**?? _Really_, Philip??? Only if you count the _bilbical sense_, eh?”

“Thomas, darling… _I’m so sorry_! I couldn’t let on to Lord Grantham! If he only knew the thoughts going through my mind right now, they’re _obscene!_ You are **_gorgeous_** tonight, by the way… you look simply _delicious_. I would have you right here on this table if I could.”

As much as Thomas resented Philip for the heartless way that they had parted, his body began to betray him. The flush of arousal spread from his cheeks all the way down to his knees. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach. His body **_knew_** Philip… every hard edge… every soft curve. He knew the taste of him. The little sounds he made when he came. Suddenly all he could think of was hearing those sounds again. (_No! Get ahold of yourself, Thomas! He has hurt you before!_). His pulse raced, as he dug this fingernails into his palms. He was getting hard. (_Where is Lord Grantham_? _Why has he abandoned me?_)

“Thomas, tell me I can see you again! **_I need you_**_!_ Please…don’t make me _beg_. I’ve been so lonely since we broke.”

“**_Lonely_**?” Thomas spat back, careful to keep his voice just above a whisper. “You got _married!_ You have a child! And God knows how many lovers you’ve had on the side! **_You don’t know what loneliness is_**_, _Philip. You don’t know what it is to cry yourself to sleep, thinking that you’ll never feel love again. You had my love once, and you used it against me. You manipulated me so that I would come back to you over and over again. But when I needed you, you threw it all back in my face. _I tried to kill myself_, Philip. That’s what it means to be lonely.”

“What?? Thomas, say that’s not true! Why would you do such a thing? You have everything to live for!”

“**_Do I?? _** Living with no hope of ever having someone to love… having to hide every glance, every touch, for fear of going to fucking _jail_…. Philip you have no idea how things work in the real world. People like me, with no ability to pay off authorities, live in fear _all the fucking time_. I alienated all the people who may have been friends to me, because I didn’t trust them to keep my secret. I hurt the people I cared about, out of fear that they would one day hurt me. I have pushed away _every single person _who has dared to get close to me. I have no one, Philip. You have a family. I have **_nothing_**.”

“My darling… _my beautiful Thomas_… I’m so sorry. Let me comfort you… let me hold you. _Come to my bed tonight_… please…. let me show you how loved you are….”

“That’s NOT love, Philip!! You don’t LOVE me! I’m not even sure you are capable of love! Maybe your daughter, perhaps, but not romantic love. And certainly not with me.”

“Does it matter, in the end, Thomas? I love in the _moment_… When you’re with me… in that instant… you are all that matters to me. I’m virtually blinded… consumed… by love. Isn’t that enough? Aren’t moments all we really have?”

“Enough for _you_, maybe,” Thomas replied, “but not for me. Not anymore.”

“_God I’m hot for you right now_,” the Duke whispered. “Your protestations only inflame me all the more.”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “So happy I could help. Perhaps you can find a rentboy down in Soho to finish you off. Or perhaps your **_wife_**. I’m not here tonight as a servant. I’m here as His Lordship’s guest.”

“What if I threatened to expose you to Lord Grantham? What if I told him you cornered me with an _indecent proposal_? It could cost you everything. I’m so filled with lust that I don’t know if anything is beyond me right now. Think about all you stand to lose.” 

“Are you really _threatening me_ after everything else you’ve done? This is low, even for you, Philip. This only proves how little you care for me.”

“_Jesus Christ_, Thomas… don’t make it come to that! Come to the lavatory with me now.. the broom closet… . Anywhere! Please! I’m about to explode!”

“The lavatory?? _Really_? Do you think I’m just going to drop to my knees in this suit? Suck you off and be on my way? No, Philip, not anymore. Do your worst.”

“Bravo, darling… playing hard to get only makes me want you _more_. You deserve an award for this performance, you’ve been _magnificent_! Now be a good boy and come with me. I’ll make up an excuse to tell Lord Grantham.”

“_I’m not a boy_, Philip. And this isn’t an act. I admit it’s been hard to say ‘no’ to you. Every cell in my body wants to shove you up against the wall and fuck that smug look off your face. But you’re not good for me. My heart can’t take it. I loved you. I thought you loved me. I was foolish enough to think we could work it out. **_We can’t_**. You know that’s true.”

At this, Lord Grantham returned to the table. “Jolly good seeing my old school mates! What fun times we had back in the day! You two seem to have found a lot to talk about.”

“The Duke was just leaving, Your Lordship. Weren’t you, Your Grace?”

“I regret that I must,” Philip replied. “I would have liked to have seen more of you, but alas, duty calls. Good evening, Lord Grantham. _Barrow_.” With that, he nodded and left.

“Everything alright then, Thomas? I figured you might have some things to discuss with your old flame. What a _tosser_, pretending that he didn’t know you. It was hard for me to keep a straight face, after what you’ve told me. I had to step away to maintain my composure. I didn’t mean to abandon you, but I figured you’d want a little privacy.”

“He threatened to expose me to you if I didn’t sleep with him tonight.”

“What? The _cheek_! My God, Thomas, I almost wish he would have. I would have loved to have seen his face when I reacted to the news. It would have been worth the price of admission!” Lord Grantham was indignant, but in a charming way. Thomas was warmed with affection for him. No one had ever wanted to defend his honor before. He too would have liked to have seen Philip’s face. Well… they still had three weeks in London. Knowing Thomas was in town would bring Philip slinking around like a cat in heat. In spite of all the hurt Philip had caused him, it gave Thomas a pang of satisfaction to have this power over him. He sat up straighter in his chair, and sipped his drink.


	10. Have Some Fun, Won't You?

The first full week of the legislative session began on Monday morning. Thomas rose early enough to dash out to the local pastry shop to pick up some scones with clotted cream, as well as a few basics at that corner grocer. He returned to Grantham House in time to make tea, and set a place at the table for Lord Grantham. He ran upstairs to gently knock on his door.

“Good morning, Your Lordship! Rise and shine! Busy day ahead!”

Lord Grantham was grateful for the wake-up call. He was not used to having to get up so early.

“May I assist you in getting ready, sir?” asked Thomas. He knew that this was supposed to be a “vacation” for him, but he also knew that Lord Grantham was accustomed to being dressed by others. He was willing to do whatever was needed to help His Lordship get off to the right start. 

“Bless you, Thomas. I wanted you to have a relaxing trip, but I won’t say ‘no.’ I can use all the help I can get.”

“It’s not a problem at all. Would you like me to take anything to be cleaned? I can also shine your shoes and get your suit ready for tomorrow.”

“Steady on, now, Thomas… I didn’t want you to have to do all this. Starting tonight I can stay at Rosamund’s. Her man can take care of what needs to be done.”

Thomas’ expression fell, just a little. He was a servant, and it was in his blood to want to be helpful. He took pride in His Lordship looking put together... it was a reflection on him every bit as much as it was of Lord Grantham. And to be honest, he wasn’t sure he wanted Robert to stay at Rosamund’s. Grantham House was large and very quiet. He didn’t know how it would feel to stay there alone. He wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.

“I should have called to have the car come a little earlier this morning,” Lord Grantham lamented. “I will probably have to stop at a café to pick up a bite to eat before I go in.” Thomas stifled a little smile as he followed Lord Grantham down the stairs. He gestured for him to follow him into the morning room. There, Lord Grantham was surprised to see the table set with tea, scones, juice, and the morning paper. “What’s this?” Robert asked, obviously pleasantly surprised. “My goodness, Thomas, you _do_ think of everything!” Thomas beamed. “However, there is just one thing missing…” Lord Grantham added, a note of concern in his voice. Thomas looked crestfallen. “What’s that, sir?” he asked. “_A place for you_, Thomas. Go grab another setting, and join me.”

Thomas was surprised at how sad he was to see Robert go. He was excited at the prospect of seeing the sights of London, but he hadn’t much money, and he had already spent some of it on breakfast. But he knew that Lord Grantham would be better served at Rosamund’s, with her maid and her cook and valet. He also knew that he himself would feel out of place there. It was a logical choice to leave him alone at Grantham House. He also knew that Robert would be back on Friday for another weekend of wining and dining. Goodness… when he put it that way, it almost felt like he was _dating_ Lord Grantham! He allowed himself the luxury of entertaining that thought for just a moment. Robert had been so kind. So generous. All of his caring smiles and gentle eyes… his touches of his hand and his arm. His insistence on calling him “Thomas” and being called “Robert.” Dinner at the Ritz… the theater after… the night at the club. Was he missing some sign? If he was being honest with himself, Thomas could acknowledge he was feeling something akin to a crush on Robert. But no- he had to stop that line of thinking **_immediately_**. Why did he gravitate towards the impossible? It would only set him up for heartbreak. Robert was offering his friendship as a father-figure, nothing more. And if he had any hope at all of a future at Downton (but _did he_? Carson didn’t seem to think so), he had to put all impure thoughts of Robert out of his mind. He wished Lord Grantham a successful session, and told him not to worry about a thing. He would see him on Friday. 

“Thomas?” Lord Grantham called, as he was getting in the car.

“Sir?” Thomas replied.

“I almost forgot! Look inside the drawer of the desk in the hall. Call Rosamund’s if you need anything. And Thomas?” a mischieveious smile lit up his face…. “Have some _FUN_, will you?”

And with that, he was off.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Thomas opened the desk drawer. He pulled out an envelope that was bursting with pound notes. More than Thomas made in a month… maybe _six _months! Tucked amongst the currency was a hand-written note:

> _Thomas-_
> 
> _I hope this will be enough to fuel your London adventures! Don’t spend it all in one place- it has to last you for the whole time we’re here. And for God’s sakes, my boy, don’t carry it all with you. Take only what you’ll need for the day, and leave the rest in a safe place. Don’t gamble it away! Or, at least only gamble a tiny bit and walk away from the tables if you start to lose. DO NOT LOOK TO ME AS AN EXAMPLE IN THIS. Goodness knows I would have lost Downton’s fortune AGAIN if Michael Gregson didn’t swoop in and save me. Learn from my mistakes._
> 
> _Now get out there and meet some interesting people! But be safe. Remember you don’t have to hide in dark alleys if you find someone you fancy. I will trust your judgment on this. Grantham House is in your hands. Don’t put it at risk by bringing in someone who might do us harm, and more importantly, do **you** harm. There’s no urgency here… make friends first if you can. Friendship is a solid foundation on which to build any romantic relationship._
> 
> _You will find Rosamund’s number by the telephone. Also in the drawer are the keys to the house, and a list of higher class establishments that cater to discerning gentlemen, just in case. Of course, do as you wish, but be discreet._
> 
> _Fondly,_
> 
> _Robert_

Once again Thomas’ eyes filled with tears. He let them flow this time. He finally knew what it felt like to be cared for.


	11. St. James' Park

After breakfast, Thomas locked up the house, and began walking through London. He didn’t have a specific destination in mind, but he headed in the direction of [Buckingham Palace](https://www.bing.com/images/search?view=detailV2&id=179DF3BF39378B555E2B3E6C1092EADB042D7F1B&thid=OIP.sBn-av47nbPpbkxBudTkiwHaEK&mediaurl=https%3A%2F%2Fcdn.londonandpartners.com%2F-%2Fmedia%2Fimages%2Flondon%2Fvisit%2Fwhats-on%2Fevent-pages%2Fbuckinghampalace1920x1080.jpg%3Fmw%3D640%26hash%3D00A33E4417EF11894C1F8F69A35F6D40C09D7467&exph=1080&expw=1920&q=buckingham+palace&selectedindex=11&ajaxhist=0&vt=0&eim=1,2,6). He’d always wanted to see it for himself.

The palace was a sight to see, and he sat outside near the [Queen Victoria monument ](https://www.bing.com/images/search?view=detailV2&id=6F06AB46A3A5C0B3AFBE87989C8E75A0B59F3B76&thid=OIP.O2Wshx2qP_rgGeOUaVcdOAHaLH&mediaurl=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.royalparks.org.uk%2Fparks%2Fst-jamess-park%2Fthings-to-see-and-do%2Fmonuments-fountains-and-statues%2Fthe-queen-victoria-memorial%2F_gallery%2FQueen-Victoria-Memorial.jpg%2Fw_992.jpg&exph=1488&expw=992&q=queen+victoria+monument&selectedindex=0&ajaxhist=0&vt=0&eim=1,2,6)and stared at it for quite a while. It was surreal to imagine that just inside, the King and Queen of England were going about their lives in much the same way as Lord and Lady Grantham might back at Downton Abbey. He imagined, too, that below stairs at the palace, a team of servants much like himself toiled from dawn to dusk catering to their every whim, making it all look so easy. Eventually, he got up and continued his walk. He found himself in [St. James’ Park,](https://www.bing.com/images/search?view=detailV2&id=43440651FBB1416AB39DCC2C5BB1F361A7E16C6C&thid=OIP.ZHLrRM6q7S6Mmb_hzuktmwHaE7&mediaurl=https%3A%2F%2Fmuinlondon.files.wordpress.com%2F2012%2F04%2Fst_james_park_2_xlarge.jpg&exph=366&expw=550&q=St.+James+Park+London&selectedindex=34&ajaxhist=0&vt=0&eim=1,2,6) just beyond the palace. The park was bustling at this time of day, filled with mothers and children, vendors selling sweets and cocoa, tea trolleys, and businessmen of all sorts. The beautiful duck pond was filled with ducks and swans, aggressively diving and chasing the crumbs of bread that visitors threw at them.

He spied an empty bench, and claimed it. He lit a cigarette, and began to watch the people that walked by.

Down the path, he noticed a man standing alone, feeding the ducks. He was tall and handsome. He was dressed well, but not _too_ well. Thomas’ outfit may have outshined his, thanks to the generosity of Lord Grantham. He moved with a certain confident grace. Thomas couldn’t take his eyes off him.

Eventually, the man moved down the path towards Thomas. He looked up, noticing Thomas staring. He smiled and tipped his hat. Thomas nodded, but didn’t shift his gaze. He held his eyes for a moment longer than what would be considered normal for a casual greeting. The man looked away and continued walking. Further down the path, he turned to look back at Thomas, whose eyes had followed him the entire way. He smiled again, and continued on his way.

Thomas’ heart raced. Was the man giving him a signal? (Calm down. This is the first man that looked your way. Don’t jump to any conclusions…). Thomas knew that men like him had to communicate by secret glances and extended looks… but he couldn’t afford to make a mistake. He had heard that sometimes police pretended to give signals in an attempt to lure “perverted men” into a trap. He had to be careful. 

He also didn’t want to appear desperate (he _was_). But not for just another anonymous tumble or nameless hand job. He wanted more. He was 31, for Christ’s sake, and he wanted _more_ than just sex. He wanted **_love_**. He thought of Lord Grantham’s advice… “make friends first.” He wondered what he should do. Should he follow the man down the path, and introduce himself? _Was that creepy?_ But what if he never saw him again? He would have missed his chance. He didn’t know the right protocol in a situation like this… every single encounter he had with another man was a frantic grope in the dark, or a secret rendezvous driven by blind lust and the thrill of crossing the social divide. He never had a relationship of equals… he had never felt wanted for _who he was_ and not just what he could do with his tongue. And he wanted that… more than anything. He wanted breakfast together like he had with Robert this morning… laughing over dinner, waking up together without having to sneak out in the wee hours of the morning before anyone could catch you. He was ready. **_God, he was ready_**. He decided he would test fate. He would come back again tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that. If the man found him again, and held his gaze, he would introduce himself. There was no harm in that. **Nothing ventured, nothing gained**.

He got up and took himself to lunch, and spent the rest of the day seeing the sights. He returned to Grantham House in the late afternoon, tired and ready for a quiet night in.

He was **_not_** expecting to find Philip waiting outside by his car.


	12. Philip

Thomas froze as the Duke of Crowborough noticed him coming down the walk. His heart raced, and the adrenaline pumped through his veins, in what would later be known as the _fight or flight response_. Thomas wasn’t sure which course of action he would be taking. 

The Duke spoke first.

“Ah! There we are! You’ve certainly made a day of it! I’ve been waiting for _hours_. I hope you’ve spent an enjoyable day on the town!”

“I didn’t know I was on a schedule,” replied Thomas dryly. “If I had known you were waiting, I would have stayed out longer.”

_“Don’t be that way,_ Thomas, please. We go back a long way, you and I. Old friends, we are.”

“We’re not _friends_, Philip. Friends want what’s best for each other. Friends don’t use each other and then toss each other aside like yesterday’s newspaper.”

“Goodness, so _dramatic_. It’s adorable. Now invite me inside. We can’t have this conversation out here on the sidewalk.”

Thomas knew that letting Philip in would be a mistake. Once alone inside, all of Thomas’s resolve would crumble. Philip was like a drug to Thomas… he wasn’t good for him, but his body craved him. And it would be _so easy_… Philip would offer himself up on a silver platter. He wouldn’t have to work for it at all.

“I don’t think I will. I don’t think I’m going inside just yet.”

Philip was persistent. “Then get in the car, Thomas. Come to my townhouse. Or I can get a room at some hotel and sneak you up separately. But for God’s sake stop this charade of being hard to get. It was charming at first, but it's getting tedious.”

Thomas knew that Philip wasn’t going to make this easy. He wouldn’t give up until he got what he wanted, and he couldn’t afford a scene out on the sidewalk. Maybe if he explained to him how he was feeling, and why he had to make a change, then he would understand and leave him alone. He was a gentleman, wasn’t he? And if he cared at all for Thomas, then he would want him to be happy. It was a gamble , but Thomas decided to take it (or maybe his mind was rationalizing a way to invite Philip in without appearing to have given in, and then once inside he couldn’t be responsible for what might happen, could he? And he knew _very well_ what might happen….)

“I’ll let you in, _Your Grace_ (his voice dripping with sarcasm), but only for a drink. I need to talk, and you need to listen. That’s all.”

“Of _course_, darling. A drink sounds like just the ticket.” With that, Thomas opened the door, and followed the Duke of Crowborough inside.

As soon as the door was closed, the Duke threw his arms around Thomas’ neck. “_Alone at last!_ I’ve been waiting for this moment since I laid eyes on you at the club!” He arched his back slightly so that his hips made contact with Thomas’s, and he hummed in delight as he nuzzled up against Thomas’s neck, peppering it with little kisses. “_You’re worth the wait_.”

Thomas pulled away, and walked into the drawing room. “I said we would be _talking,_ Philip. I want you to hear what I have to say.” He poured himself a scotch, and one for the Duke. 

“There will be plenty of time to talk, Thomas, _but first_….” Philip reached down and ran his hand over the front of Thomas’s trousers, finding what he was looking for, and giving it a gentle squeeze. “I see that you’re happy I’m here.”

Thomas closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. **_Damn his traitorous body!_** His brain started the mental gymnastics of trying to justify why being with Philip was a good idea…. _He was a sure thing, and men like him had to take what they could get…….. maybe he and Philip really were friends, and they just had a special way of expressing their friendship….… maybe the man in the park wasn’t interested at all, and he would never see him again……. maybe he would grow old in Yorkshire and never have the opportunity to feel the press of a man’s body against his ever again….. _

He opened his eyes and took in the sight of Philip gazing up at him adoringly, eyes searching and lips slightly parted. He had to admit, Philip was _beautiful_, with his chestnut hair and his delicate hands that probably never saw a day’s work in his life. His skin was perfect, and _Jesus Christ_ he smelled so good. Thomas ran his fingers across Philip’s cheek, and around to the back of his neck. He lowered his head to place a soft kiss on Philip’s lips, allowing his forehead to rest against Philip’s. One kiss turned into two, and soon, Philip’s lips parted and his tongue gently licked the roof of Thomas’s mouth. The passion intensified, and their bodies were soon rutting up against each other, seeking as much contact as possible. 

“Take me upstairs,” Philip whispered softly into Thomas’s ear. Thomas took his hand, and led the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry... I know we wanted Thomas to break away from Philip, but I felt that it would be unrealistic to think that he wouldn't give in at least once. Thomas can't resist him... especially when Lord Grantham isn't there to give him moral support. It will be a process for him, but I think he'll get there...


	13. Before I Go....

Thomas awoke to the Duke of Crowborough snuggled up against his body, softly sleeping. He looked like an angel, at least when he was so vulnerable. Thomas’s heart swelled. It was _so easy_ with Philip- their bodies fit together so perfectly, it was if they were made for each other. Thomas had never enjoyed the luxury of waking up next to another, unafraid of being caught before he could quietly slink out and back to the servant’s quarters. This experience was a first, and it felt decadent. He wanted to savor it. He placed a gentle kiss on Philip’s forehead.

“Good morning, darling,” Philip mused, sleepily, nuzzling in closer. “I must have fallen asleep. I apologize that we never did get to have our talk. Although your mouth was certainly busy doing other things. Quite _divinely_, I might add.”

“Won’t someone have missed you, Philip? Won’t they be wondering where you are? For all we know Scotland Yard may have sent a search party out to look for you.”

“They won’t have to look far, silly boy. My car is parked right outside. And I’m in London with only a skeleton crew. They know me well enough not to worry if I don’t come home for the night. I’ll call them soon to let them know to expect me for lunch.”

Thomas took a moment to consider what the Duke had just said. “Do you do this often, then, Philip? Spending the night away from your own bed?”

“Not as often as I’d like,” he chuckled. Thomas bristled. So much for being special.

“Oh _come now_, Thomas. Don’t be jealous. You know how it is for men like us. We do what we have to do to get by.”

“But you’re married, now. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“It didn’t seem to mean anything to _you_, last night, did it dear boy?”

Thomas felt ashamed. He didn’t stop to consider the Duke’s wife even for a moment. 

“And I’m sorry for it, now. I was thinking only of myself. It wasn’t fair. And you have a child to consider now, with probably more to come. Apparently your wife holds some charms for you?”

“It’s a marriage of convenience, Thomas. She was an heiress who wanted a title. I’m a duke who needs an heir. We’re all getting what we want.”

“But does she know about you? Does she know the truth?”

“Don’t be daft, dear boy! It’s not something one announces on one’s wedding night. I will let her keep her illusions, for a while. Once we have a son, our marriage will take the course that all aristocratic unions do. We’ll live separate lives, and smile happily for family photographs.”

Thomas thought of Lord and Lady Grantham. They didn’t seem to be living separate lives. In fact, their marriage was the standard that Thomas held every other union to. 

“But how do you manage it, being as you are? How do you....” he finished his thought by looking down at Philip’s body.

“By closing my eyes and thinking of _you_, my darling. So in a round-about way, _you_ will be responsible for giving me my heir. Just imagine!” The Duke’s eyes twinkled as he reached over to take Thomas in his hand. “Fancy another go ‘round before I have to leave?”

Before he could protest, Philip had begun to work his magic. There would time enough to talk. But not now. 


	14. The Fairytale

Back at Downton, the tremors in Mr. Carson’s hands were becoming harder to ignore. He nearly spilled the wine on Lady Mary at dinner. Lady Mary insisted that he go and “rest,” leaving the dinner service to Mosely and Andrew.

Mrs. Hughes entered the butler’s pantry and closed the door.

“When were you going to tell me?” she asked.

“Tell you _what_?” he blustered. Carson was a proud man, and did not like admitting weakness of any kind.

“The shaking of your hands.... I couldn’t help but notice,” Mrs. Hughes replied kindly.

Carson let out a loud sigh. “I might as well just say it, then. _I’m done for_.”

“Nonsense!” Mrs. Hughes rebutted. “We’ll go and see Doctor Clarkson, and he can run some tests.”

“No. There’s no need. I know what it is. My father had it, and Grandad had it before him. It finished the careers of both of them. Grandad called it ‘the _palsy_.’ I had hoped it would skip a generation, but no such luck. The only thing standing between me and Armageddon is Mosely, Barrow, and Andrew, and Mosely’s on the way out.”

“Capable hands, indeed, Charlie. But let’s not make any decisions just yet. I’ll ask Mosely to pour the wine from now on. Once His Lordship returns from London, we can discuss the best course of action. For now, let’s just carry on.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Thomas walked Philip down to the front door. 

"Can I see you later?” asked Philip.

“You’ve taken to _asking_ now, instead of just showing up? How unlike you.”

“I don’t know Lord Grantham’s schedule while in London. For all I know he could have walked in on us last night. It’s possible he will back tonight. I just want to be sure.”

“Yes, well, he never told me his schedule. He mentioned that some nights might be late and that he would just stay at the club. I never know when he may come back. It’s best not to risk it.”

“Then when can I see you again? I had such a lovely time, and I know you feel the same. I can’t bear the thought of us both in London and not seeing each other.”

“Philip, please listen to me. Last night was a mistake. I enjoyed it.. _of course I did_... you know I have a weakness for you. But if you cared about me you wouldn’t use it against me. I’m trying to be a better man. I don’t want to come between a husband and his wife.” 

“If not you, Thomas, it would be someone else,” the Duke replied.

“That’s on your conscience, Philip, but it doesn’t have to be on mine. You’re not free to be with me, not in the way that I want. I want someone who loves me, and only me. That will never be you. Even before you married, you didn’t choose me. I would have served as your valet by day and your lover by night, but you didn’t want that. You insisted on finding an heiress.”

“I had to produce an heir!” the Duke protested.

“Why? The Marquess of Hexham didn’t marry. He chose to live and die being true to himself. They found an heir... his cousin Bertie Pelham is the new Marquess.”

“Peter was the laughing stock of the peerage! Everyone knew what he was about. All those trips to Tangiers ensured that. I couldn’t bear such public scrutiny. Living alone as a “confirmed bachelor” Duke... _just think of the talk_! I would be ostracized. Cut off from society. I couldn’t bear it, Thomas! And besides, mother would never allow it.”

“Ah, well, if _mother_ wouldn’t allow it.”

“Don’t be cruel, Thomas. Some of us have to worry about what our parents think.”

“Why? I stopped caring what my father thought when he almost killed me for who I was. I left his home at age 14 and have made my own way ever since. _Mother_ not having _tea _with me doesn’t seem such a high price to pay.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t be who you want me to be. You always did want the fairytale.”

“Why shouldn’t I want it? _Everyone else does_! And it’s within their reach! Why can’t I hold out for someone who loves me, and wants to spend his life with me? Why is that so wrong?”

“It’s not wrong to _dream_, Thomas, but that’s not the world we live in. What you want is against the law. It will never be allowed.”

“Maybe not for you. But I have reason to hope. My employers seem understanding.”

“No one is _that_ understanding, even your beloved Earl of Grantham. If he knew the truth about you, he might offer a reference, but I guarantee you’d be out of a job.”

Thomas thought back to the conversation he and Lord Grantham shared on the train to London.

“I think you’re wrong, Philip. Now please, if I mean anything at all to you, _leave me be_.”

The Duke of Crowborough got into his car and drove away.


	15. Walk With Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that I'm bringing Richard Ellis into the story, I realize that I'm playing fast and loose with the established timeline set down in the movie. I'm not sure I can reconcile the two, since three years supposedly transpired between Season 6 and the Royal Visit. Forgive me if I have to take some liberties... I already made a mistake by bringing Anna's baby to life before Edith and Bertie's wedding, which hasn't happend yet in this story. I'm just going to have to roll with it....

Thomas inhaled deeply and pinched his eyes with his hand, deep in thought. What had he just done? He knew sending Philip away was for the best, but he felt conflicted. He just had the best sex of his life, and being able to wake up in his lover’s arms was so indulgent and luxurious that it sent a little shiver down his spine. And he knew that he could have it every night for the next three weeks if he chose. Philip was more than willing.

“But I want that _every day_,” he thought. Maybe Philip was right... maybe it could never be that way for him. Not as long as he lived at Downton, anyway. Things could be different in a big city... people were too preoccupied to pay any attention to what anyone else was doing. He could get a flat, and.... _do what_, exactly? He had no skills. Service was all he knew. He could get a job at a factory, but conditions were harsh and hours were long, and the working people he saw were just barely getting by. A shop, perhaps? He could see himself working at a fine gentlemen’s establishment like Mr. Rothchild’s, measuring London’s elite for formal wear and recommending the perfect gloves. Or waiting tables at a fine restaurant (like the _Ritz?_)- he certainly knew how to serve food to the rich and famous. So he _did_ have options, then. All of them seemed to involve _blowing smoke up the asses_ of rich gentlemen, but it couldn’t be helped... that’s what “service” was, and he was good at it. He filed these thoughts away in his mind so that he could think about them later, when he was lying alone in bed tonight, missing the warmth of Philip’s body. Right now, though, Thomas had to hurry. He ran upstairs to bathe and get dressed. He had somewhere he needed to be.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The ducks at St. James park seemed particularly interested in Thomas today. He came prepared with scraps of bread, so that he would look like he belonged there. He took his seat on a bench, ducks all around him, and checked his watch. It was about the same time yesterday that he spied the handsome man taking his walk. He waited.

Within a few minutes, Thomas spotted the man coming from the direction of the palace. As he did yesterday, the man stopped and cast a few crumbs to the hungry birds that gathered near his feet (“_how could these ducks be hungry?_” Thomas wondered. “They eat all day long! _Greedy buggers!_”).

As the man continued his walk, he once again glanced in Thomas’s direction. Their eyes met, and their gaze held. Thomas could feel his cheeks flush, and he silently cursed his fair skin for betraying him. Just as yesterday, the man broke the connection, and turned back to his walk. This time, however, he only took a few steps along the path before he turned back to Thomas, who was still staring, and jerked his head almost imperceptibly as if to say, “_Walk with me_.” He then resumed his walk, at a much more leisurely pace. Thomas stood up and, trying to look as nonchalant as possible, joined the man on the path, as if they had been old friends who met like this every day to talk politics or business. It was surreal, if he was being honest.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“You’ve been watching me,” the man said. “I noticed you yesterday. Are you a reporter? Are you looking for gossip about the royal family? I don’t take bribes, you know. I won’t give you any dirt for your rag, if that’s what you want.”

Thomas suddenly felt very embarrassed. He had completely misread the signals. What he assumed was a “come hither” gesture was just an invitation to tell him off. Perhaps the signals gay men used were the same signals used by spies and informants to communicate that they had top-secret information on offer. The very idea made him laugh.

“What’s so funny?” the man asked. _God, he was handsome._ Not _pretty_, like Philip, all delicate and soft. _Manly. Tall. **Strong**._

“I’m sorry,” replied Thomas, trying to collect himself. “Just that you thought I was a reporter. It made me laugh. I assure you _I am not_. But now I _am_ interested... _royal gossip_? That sounds intriguing!” 

“Yes, I suppose it would, but I assure you, I’m sworn to secrecy. My allegiance lies, _quite legally, I might add,_ with the royal family. Telling anything could not only lose me my job, it could land me in jail. So please, don’t ask.”

“Of course, I understand,” Thomas assured. “I work for a powerful family, myself. And while I don’t think I’ve signed a legal agreement to the effect, I feel honor-bound to protect their privacy.”

“Are you a _solicitor_, then?”

For a very brief moment, Thomas felt compelled to lie. This _gorgeous_ man honestly considered that Thomas could have been a lawyer, or a reporter... in either case, a man that worked with his _mind_ instead of his _hands_. It was tempting to let him think so. But Thomas knew that the truth would always out, and he was tired of living lies. He decided to take the risk and just be honest.

“I’m in service, as a matter of fact. I’m in London for the Parliamentary session with my employer, the Earl of Grantham.” He extended his hand for the other man to shake. “Barrow. _Thomas Barrow_.” 

The other man took Thomas’ hand and gave it a firm shake. “_Richard Ellis_. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Barrow.”

“Thomas, please. And the pleasure's all mine."

“Ok then, _Thomas_. Since we’re being honest... I’m in service, too. I’m the _King’s Dresser_, as it happens. Which is why I am often sought-out by the press. As you can imagine, it’s a position of absolute trust.”

“I do know. I’ve served as His Lordship’s valet for a while. I was hoping to be made permanent, but his regular valet returned. They didn’t quite know what to do with me, so they made me “Under-butler.” I’m not even sure how long they’ll keep me on in that position, with money being tight. I suppose I’ll find out soon enough.”

"The _Earl of Grantham_... is that Downton Abbey, then? In _Yorkshire_?”

“Just the same. Do you know it?”

“I do! My parents live in York! I grew up there! What a small world!” Richard seemed genuinely delighted to see someone from “home.”

“I grew up in Manchester, myself, but I left home at 14 to enter service. The Crawley family has been nothing but kind to me. I admit that being in London these few days has made me long for city life, but Downton feels like home to me. I’ve put down roots there. It would be a hard decision.”

“And I’m just the opposite!” Richard replied. I’ve been in London for ages now, but my heart is up North. I long for the country air and the rolling fields. With my parents getting older, I feel like I’ve quite abandoned them. I'm an only child, you see. I survived the war in one piece, but royal service is unforgiving. It demands 110% of your life. I’m sorry. I know you understand what I mean.”

“I do. Sometimes I feel like I live in a fishbowl. I can’t make a move without the entire staff knowing what I’m doing. I’m not sure if I even have a life of my own at all. Sometimes I wonder why I stay.”

“I don’t mean to get too personal, Thomas, so forgive me if I say too much. But a man of your age... _our age_, really... surely the family understands that you may want to marry? Settle down and start a family of your own? I’m sure they would reward your years of loyal service by offering a cottage on the estate and allowing you to keep your job? That seems to be the custom in these country estates, anyway.”

Thomas wasn’t sure how to answer this without revealing too much. He decided to deflect the question with a question of his own.

“Haven’t _you_ wanted to marry?” he asked pointedly.

“As I said, the royal family demands 110%. Marriage is out of the question if I’m to remain in royal service. It’s a _vocation_, they say, much like the priesthood, or the convent.” He laughed.

“And one that you’re committed to?” Thomas pressed.

“I’m not sure anymore. We’re not getting any younger, eh? I long to put down roots myself. I envy you that much, Thomas. A quiet life in Yorkshire sounds _idyllic_.”

They walked on amiably, as Thomas considered his next move.


	16. Common Ground

Talking with Richard was remarkably easy. They had so much in common. The walk turned into lunch at a pub, each taking turns regaling the other with tales of elegant dinners with important guests, hunting trips to Scotland and the many grand estates of England, and all the other strange and remarkable things that one witnessed while in service to a great family. Thomas dazzled Richard by recounting his visit to New York with Lord Grantham, while Richard told of the many lands he visited as part of the royal entourage. They laughed and talked well into the afternoon.

“Don’t you have to get back?” Thomas asked, suddenly worried that he had kept Richard from his duties.

“I do, yes,” Richard replied. “His Majesty was out on official business today, but he will soon be back and will need to change for dinner. I usually have a bit of free time each day between breakfast and dinner, hence my _daily constitutional _in St. James’ Park. It gives me an opportunity to stretch my legs and clear my head a bit. If I squint my eyes, I can even imagine I’m back in the country, surrounded by nature. It keeps me sane.”

“I enjoyed our time together today, Richard. Would you mind terribly much if I looked for you again tomorrow?” Thomas asked, afraid even as the words were leaving his mouth that it sounded too _eager_. _Normal blokes don’t say things like that to each other_, Thomas thought, regretting his question immediately. It seemed very clear that Richard wasn’t... **_like him_**... but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t be a _friend_, and Thomas didn’t have very many friends. He remembered the horrible miscalculation he had made with Jimmy, who in spite of everything, ended up being a very good friend indeed.

Suddenly he wanted more than anything to have Richard as his friend, straight or not. He hoped he hadn’t ruined it.

“I should like nothing more,” replied Richard, and gave him a friendly smile. He held out his hand, and once more gave Thomas a firm and commanding handshake. “I daresay that meeting a fellow Northerner has been the highlight of my day. Till tomorrow, old chap.” He nodded, slapped Thomas’ shoulder fraternally, and departed.

Thomas exhaled as if he had been holding his breath the whole time. “_Fucking hell_,” he thought gleefully. He smiled, and spent the rest of the day walking around London on cloud nine.


	17. Becoming Friends

The days rolled on too quickly, with Thomas and Richard meeting at the park each afternoon for a stroll, ending with lunch at a different pub each day. (It was always a _pub_, never a _restaurant_. Pubs were places where men were _expected_ to congregate, to share stories and a pint. It was acceptable to be with another man at a _pub_). Tales of service gave way to tales of the war, each telling of the horrors that they witnessed in the trenches. “It helps to talk about it with someone who was there, doesn’t it?” asked Richard. “I can’t talk about it with anyone else. They could never understand. One minute you’re sharing a cigarette with a bloke, and the next minute his blood is splattered all over your face. I had nightmares for years.”

Thomas recounted the story of how Downton became a convalescent home after the war, with him at the helm. It was actually one of his proudest accomplishments, as long as he didn’t consider the ruthless way he treated the household staff at the time. He shook it off. “_That was the old me_,” he thought to himself. Richard seemed genuinely impressed.

As Friday’s lunch came to an end and Richard made ready to leave, he asked Thomas what his plans were for the weekend.

“Lord Grantham will be back in Grantham House this evening, and I presume we will go out to dinner, perhaps even the theatre.” He recounted his dinner at the Ritz last Friday, and the show, and the dinner at the club on Saturday. He intentionally left out any mention of the Duke of Crowborough.

“You mean to say that you dined _with_ Lord Grantham- _at his table_\- at the _Ritz_ and at the _club_? That you accompanied him to the theatre and _sat in his box_? And what do mean that Lord Grantham will be “coming back” to Grantham House? Where has he been all this time?” Richard seemed to be in a state of abject confusion. “I knew things were a bit _less formal_ in the country, but I had no idea they were _quite_ so casual.” He had a bemused smile on his face.

“It would take too long to explain,” Thomas offered, hoping to put an end to it. “Suffice it to say that Lord Grantham leaves Grantham House to my care and protection during the week, while he stays with his sister, Lady Rosamund Painswick. On the weekend, he returns, and we spend time together. He has taken a fatherly interest in me, you see, and was hoping to afford me a bit of a ‘vacation.’” Thomas knew how utterly ridiculous it all sounded. Richard looked understandably scandalized.

“Are you _lovers_?” Richard blurted out, completely out of the blue. Thomas nearly choked on his beer.

“**_What_**?!? Why would you think _that_??” Thomas barely managed to spit out.

“It’s just such an _unusual _arrangement. I can’t imagine any other reason why a nobleman would whisk one of his handsome young servants off to London _alone_, without anyone else there to serve with him, not even a cook or a maid. Has he tried to _seduce_ you?”

“You think I’m _handsome_?” Thomas stammered.

“After all I just said, _that’s_ your take-away?” Richard laughed. “Thomas, I’m _concerned about you_. I’m worried that Lord Grantham may have some nefarious plans for the weekend. And _of course_ I think you’re handsome. Good Lord, I may be a man, but I’m not _blind_.”

“I can assure you, Lord Grantham has only the most _honorable_ intentions concerning me, Richard. There is absolutely nothing to worry about.”

“I was only thinking of your _virtue_,” Richard snickered, barely able to hide his smile.

“And what of your virtue?” Thomas remarked, a glint of mischief in his eye. “Surely temptation exists around every corner for a man in your position. A veritable **smorgasbord** of housemaids, eager to please, I imagine.”

“I’ve had my fair share of offers, I suppose,” he blushed. “Not really interested, though.”

“Why ever not?” Thomas pressed. 

“I have to go, really I do. I’ve tarried long enough. Enjoy your weekend with your _gallant Earl,_ my friend. Back on for Monday then? I’ll expect a _full report._”

“I’ll be there.... _with_ _bells on_.” Thomas quipped.

“I’d pay to see that,” Richard said, with a friendly wink.

And with that, he was gone.


	18. I Failed You

* * *

Robert arrived back at Grantham House right on schedule. Thomas had the house tidied up and ready for his arrival, including making Lord Grantham’s bed and airing out his room. He even stocked up on eggs, bacon, and milk, so that he could make His Lordship a proper breakfast.

“Good to see you, my boy!” he enthused upon seeing Thomas again. “I’m eager to hear all about your week! But first, let’s go up and change, and get ready for dinner!”

“Pardon me, sir, but what is the dress code? Are we dining formally?” Thomas didn’t want to presume that Lord Grantham’s generosity would be treating him to a night of indulgent luxury _again_.

“Absolutely we are, Thomas! White tie and tails! I have a treat for you tonight!“

"More of a treat than the Ritz and the theatre? I can’t imagine how you could top that! And please don’t feel you have to. I’m perfectly happy having fish and chips at a pub!”

“I’ve never _had_ fish and chips,” Lord Grantham replied. Are they good? And what are _chips_?”

Thomas tried to hold in his laughter. “_Very _good. What if I make a deal with you?”

“A deal? What did you have in mind?”

“Well, white tie and tails _tonight_. Fish and chips _tomorrow_. We spend Saturday seeing the London _I know_. You’ve encouraged me to have adventures while I’m here... this would be an adventure for _you_.” 

Lord Grantham looked skeptical. “_Golly gumdrops_, I don’t know. Wouldn’t it be scandalous for me to go wally-gopping around the seedy side of London?”

“Wally-gopping, sir?” Thomas asked with mock seriousness, just barely keeping himself from laughing. And he didn’t know anyone else who could use the phrase “golly gumdrops” with a straight face.

“_Robert_... and _yes_, I _did_ just make that word up.” Robert’s eyes were so comically sincere that Thomas couldn’t hold it in any longer. Before long, the two of them were laughing uncontrollably.

“If it’s all the same to you, ... _Robert_... what if we forgo the fancy dinner and go to the pub _tonight_? You must be exhausted from your long week. You don’t owe me anything. I’m perfectly content with a pint and an early night in.”

“Are you sure? I wanted to give you another night on the town! But to be perfectly honest, I‘m _knackered_. You won’t be disappointed, then? And what would I even wear to a pub?”

“Leave it to me, sir. I’ll get you sorted.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Before long, Thomas and Robert were just two mates sharing a pint at the pub, laughing and enjoying a delicious meal of fish and chips. Thomas told Robert all that he had done so far, carefully leaving out the part about Philip. He was so excited to report how he had made a friend with the _King’s Dresser_. 

“That’s marvelous news, Thomas! I’m so happy for you! It sounds like the two of you are perfectly suited. And the _King’s Dresser_, no less!”

“Yes, we’re perfectly suited to be _friends_. That’s what’s important. You wanted me to make _friends_.” Thomas didn’t want Lord Grantham to get the wrong impression.

“Friendship is a good basis for a relationship, Thomas. And if I had to choose someone for you myself, I couldn’t do better than someone from His Majesty’s _inner circle_. He’s won my vote.”

The thought of Lord Grantham choosing a partner for Thomas was beyond absurd. If you had told Thomas that he and Robert would be having this conversation just 10 days ago, Thomas would have never believed it.

“Robert, can I ask you something?”

“_Shoot,_ my boy. What is it?” Lord Grantham, by this point, was two sheets to the wind. 

“What’s changed you? Why are you so open about how I... _how I am_? Aren’t you disgusted? And why are you treating me to this.... _vacation_... buying me things, giving me money, taking me to expensive restaurants, _risking ridicule_ to do so. I’m not ungrateful, but _why?_”

“My _dear_ boy, Barrow... erm... _Thomas_...listen to me. I have suffered loss in my life. My darling Sybil, then Matthew, even William. Those deaths hurt me, but they couldn’t be helped. And then I got the news that you....“ tears filled his eyes, and he choked on his words.... “that you were found in a bathtub _filled with your own blood_. That you saw fit to take your own life, when by all accounts you were healthy and as _full of_ _piss and vinegar_ as ever before. And of course I knew what happened with Jimmy, Carson gave me a full report. And I admit I wasn’t as understanding as I could have been, then....”

“But you intervened for me when the police came....”

“Yes, but how much of that was to avoid scandal as much as anything else?”

“Or to win the cricket match?” Thomas offered, trying to lighten the mood.

“You are Downton’s best cricketer, my boy. The house’s honor was at stake! I’d say that’s worth a promotion to Under Butler any day!” Lord Grantham slapped Thomas on the back fondly, and they both laughed to stave off the tears.

“At any rate, I wasn’t there for you when I could have been, and I know Carson doesn’t have it in him. The thing is, _I do_. I’ve not much of a mind for business, and I’m not a man of letters. But I can relate to people, and care about their problems. Probably why I almost ran Downton into the ground. I never had the heart to evict tenants who couldn’t pay their rent or pull their weight. And yet here was one of my most loyal servants, who had been with me since he was boy and had saved my daughter’s life, trying to end his own. And somehow I knew that I had failed you. **_I failed you, Thomas!_** I knew I had to get past my own prejudices and try to reach you. I hope I have. I may be the Earl of Grantham, but I am a man first, just like you. I have a heart. And if we can’t support each other... uplift each other... then what is it all for? None of the trappings of wealth and station matter, if not to be used to help others. That’s what I believe, anyway. Who you love? _What does it matter?_ I don’t care anymore. What matters is that you _do_ love, that you find happiness. It matters to me. _You_ matter to me, Thomas. Can you believe that?”

_“I want to._ I’ve never had much hope before now. Honestly, I was just trying to survive. And then even _that_ seemed to be too much effort. But you’ve given me hope. That’s such a gift, Robert. I can never thank you enough.”

“Your happiness is all the thanks I need.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The weekend passed happily, with Thomas and Robert exploring all the sights of London. Thomas even convinced Robert that they should visit Chinatown and try some Chinese food.

“There’s something _jolly foreigner_ about Chinese food,” Lord Grantham stated with not even _a hint_ of irony.

Thomas looked at him like he was insane and rolled his eyes. They both burst out laughing. Robert cracked open his fortune cookie and pulled out the little strip of paper. _“You will be lucky in love this week,”_ it read. He handed it over to Thomas. “I think this one’s for you,” he offered, and flashed him a huge smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lord Grantham actually used the words "Golly Gumdrops" and "Jolly Foreigner" in the show. I couldn't resist working them in here!


	19. Grantham House

The days and weeks passed happily by, with Thomas and Richard meeting each day for their daily walk and lunch. They never seemed to run out of things to talk and laugh about. A feeling of dread filled Thomas’s chest as his third week in London ticked away.

On Wednesday of that week, Thomas met Richard as usual, and they began their walk. Thomas was telling Richard a story about the time when the whole Downton staff was stationed at Grantham House for Lady Rose’s wedding.

“I’d very much like to see Grantham House once before you go, if it’s not an imposition… do you think Lord Grantham would mind if you gave me a tour?” Richard asked sincerely. There was not a hint of innuendo in his voice.

“Mind? _Not at all! _ He gave me the Keys to the Kingdom! Let’s skip lunch and go now… I can make us a something to eat while we’re there.”

“A man of many talents, I see,” Richard quipped with a smirk.

“I have to be prepared to serve my master in whatever way he might need,” Thomas rebutted, regretting it as soon as he said it, thinking it sounded a bit too suggestive.

“Indeed! _I would expect nothing less from you_.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As they turned the corner and approached Grantham House, Thomas once again froze in place. He stopped so abruptly that Richard almost tripped over him.

“What’s the matter?” He asked, looking perplexed. He followed Thomas’s gaze to the car parked just outside the door.

“Fuck fuck **_fuck_**….” Thomas muttered barely audibly under his breath. “Let’s turn back… I’m really hungry… let’s just go to a pub after all.” He turned them around, hoping he wasn’t seen.

“**_Barrow!_**” a shout came from behind them. Thomas stopped in his tracks, clenching his teeth. He inhaled deeply, and slowly turned around.

“Your Grace. _What a pleasant surprise_. I’m sorry to say that Lord Grantham hasn’t returned yet for the day. I will certainly let him know that you called.”

“Actually, it was _you_ I wanted to see. But I can see you have _company_, so I won’t keep you long.” Philip had a look of jealous indignation on his face.

Thomas tried to communicate a thousand words to Philip with just his eyes. His look silently pleaded with him “_Don’t do this.”_

“I know you’ll be leaving soon, so I had to catch you before you left. I seem to have misplaced my cufflinks. I wondered if you may have found them upstairs by your bed. The way you tore my shirt off, they could be anywhere. Do be a dear and let me know if you find them, will you? And have a safe trip back!”

With that, the Duke got back into his car and sped off.

Thomas was paralyzed with guilt and shame. He couldn’t bear to face Richard after the humiliation that was Philip’s parting gift to him. 

“Sorry, _I’ve got to go_,” he mumbled and ran inside.


	20. The Axe Always Falls

Thursday saw Thomas wallowing in bed much later than usual, replaying the horrible events of the previous day over and over in his mind. He did not venture out to St. James’ Park. He was devastated at the loss of Richard, who was only ever a friend, but now would never even be that. And he was heartbroken that the man that he held tenderly in his arms not three weeks ago and whom he had made love to more times than he cared to recall could think so little of him as to rip his heart out of his chest and _shit all over it_ like he had. He was done with love… it hurt too much. This is why he swore it off in the first place, and became the heartless _son-of-a-bitch_ everyone knew him to be. His time in London would soon be over… there was nothing for it now. All the fun and laughter he had would forever be overshadowed by the heartbreak that was its conclusion. Just like every other good thing in his life, the axe would always fall sooner or later. **_Every_**. **_Fucking_**. **_Time_**.

Thomas stirred as he heard a faint knocking at the door. He didn’t want to answer it (_it’s__ probably Philip hoping to get in one last fuck before he leaves, and__ I’ll probably give it to him because that’s how fucking little I think of myself, and what is there to lose **now**?)._ The knocking persisted, until Thomas finally relented, dragging himself (still in pajamas) down to answer the door.

To his surprise, it was not Philip, but Richard standing in front of him. 

“I didn’t see you at the park today, and I got worried. _Are you alright_?”

Thomas raked his hand through his hair nervously. “I didn’t think you’d want to see me again.”

“Can I come in?” asked Richard in a gentle voice. “I’d rather we had this conversation in private. Unless you’d prefer going somewhere else. I can wait out here until you get dressed.”

Thomas opened the door wide and stepped aside in a gesture of invitation. “I suppose I still owe you a tour.” He smiled dejectedly.

“Would you feel better getting dressed? I can wait.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever feel better _again_, so what’s the difference? I think I’ll just stay like this all day. Maybe tomorrow, too.

“I’m going to make us a pot of tea. Is that alright?” Bless Richard for trying to act like nothing happened.

“Alright.”

“Um… could you show me where the kitchen is?” He smiled an embarrassed smile.

“Come on then. It can be the first leg of your tour,” Thomas replied, feeling like truly he had nothing else to lose. His dignity was ground into dust under the heel of Philip’s jealousy.

They stood in awkward silence as the water boiled. They then took the pot and the tea leaves into the drawing room, and sat at the table.

“I never asked you why you were staring at me on that first day in the park. I asked if you were a reporter trying to get my attention, but when you told me you weren’t, I dropped it. I never found out why.” 

Thomas stared at his teacup. Anything to avoid making eye contact with Richard.

“_Because I wanted you to notice me_. I wanted to see if you might be interested in… being _friends_.” It sounded lame even to Thomas.

“Friends?” Richard pressed. 

“I don’t know… maybe not at first. I wanted to meet someone who might start out as a friend but could become something more… maybe. Lord Grantham suggested…”

“**_Lord Grantham_**? Does he know about you? _Jesus_, Thomas, that could be the end of your career!”

“He does, and it won’t be. I told you, he’s been nothing but kind to me. He e_ncouraged_ me to look for love… He knows how lonely I’ve been, and how hard it’s been for me. I was despondent a few months back.” Thomas slowly lifted his sleeves to reveal the scars on his wrists. He hung his head in shame.

“_Oh_ _Thomas_,” Richard whispered, running his fingertips feathersoft over the scars. Thomas stiffened as if burned by the touch.

“_I’m so sorry_,” he continued, barely audible at all. He lowered his head to place a gentle kiss on the scars, each in turn. He then lifted one of Thomas’s hands to his mouth, and kissed his palm lightly, placing it against his own cheek, leaning into the touch. His eyes searched Thomas’s, willing them to say everything he couldn’t say. Willing Thomas to understand all that was being left unsaid.

“About yesterday…” Thomas stammered, feeling like he owed Richard an explanation.

“Doesn’t matter,” Richard replied.

“It matters to _me_,” Thomas insisted. We were friends… I don’t want any secrets from you.”

“We _are_ friends,” Richard corrected.

Thomas nodded tentatively, still unsure.

“Philip and I have a history.”

“_Philip_?” Richard asked. “Should I know who he is?”

“You probably do, but I’m not going to say more. Unlike him, I don’t want to use… _the way we are_… as a weapon. As much as he’s done to hurt me, I don’t want to bring scandal down upon his head. He has a wife and young child to think of. Not that you would tell anyone. Discretion is your middle name, I’m sure.”

“And Philip is your lover?”

“No. I mean, yes. And no. He _was_, years ago. We spent a summer season in London _carrying on _together. I’m sorry if this repulses you. You were so concerned about my virtue when first we met, remember? That’s why I laughed. You thought it was Lord Grantham that would steal my innocence.”

“I’m not repulsed. _Jesus Christ_, Thomas, give me some credit. And your virtue is your own business. You’re a grown man. That was a _joke_.”

“So, a few years ago, Philip came to Downton to pursue Lady Mary. He was hell-bent on marrying an heiress. It didn’t work out, but we ended badly. He snuck into my room and stole all the love letters he had sent me, and burned them. Even so, he could have taken me with him, and I would have gladly gone, but he chose not to. He broke my heart.”

“_Oh Thomas…_.”

“I never expected to see him again, until Lord Grantham brought me to the club on that first Saturday in London. Philip wandered over, pretending he didn’t know who I was. Then recalling that I was the _footman_ that served him at Downton Abbey. As soon as Lord Grantham left the table, he was begging me to… _service him_.. in the lavatory. It was degrading, but also flattering, too? It sounds so wrong when I hear myself say it….”

“I’m not judging you….”

“_I’m judging me_. I didn’t do it… I told him ‘no.’ He knew that I would be alone in Grantham House, and he waited for me on that first day… the day I first saw you in the park. I had already decided that I would wait for you the next day, or the day after that, to see if you would notice me staring at you, and understand. You see, men… _like me_… have to find each other with signals… gestures, glances held a moment too long… You held my gaze, and I assumed you might be interested. I was wrong…of course- you thought I wanted information...a _story_.”

“_You weren’t wrong_.”

“And so Philip waited for me, just like he did yesterday, and one thing led to another, and…. Wait, _what_? _What do you mean_ I wasn’t wrong?”

“I _was_ interested in you. The whole _cock and bull_ story about being a reporter… it was _sort of_ true, but also a way to initiate a conversation without revealing my hand. It was my _in_.”

“Bloody _brilliant_, actually. _I’m impressed_.” Thomas sniffled a little as he spoke, because by now he was quite overcome with emotion.

“I didn’t expect that we’d have so much in common, though, did you? Philip asked. I didn’t expect to find a best friend…”

“I didn’t. Which made it all the more risky. You started asking me about whether I was looking to get married, and it seemed clear that you couldn’t be… _like me_… and I found that I didn’t even care because you I just_ liked you so much_, as a person, and I loved the time we spent together just talking about everything. I didn’t want to lose that by pushing for something else that would have scared you away forever. I would have been content to just be your friend. _It would have been enough_.” Thomas was aware that he was rambling, but he couldn’t help himself. He had never had a friend like Richard… someone who understood everything about him.

“Would you have told me, if Philip never showed up?” Thomas asked, wondering now if fear would have paralyzed _**both**_ of them into inaction.

“Well, I did ask you for a tour of Grantham House, which I was hoping you’d recognize as a hint. I wanted to get you somewhere… less public…. to maybe ask a few more pointed questions....feel it out a bit more. I figured I had nothing to lose but my pride if you let me down gently. It was a slow burn, but Philip just threw gasoline on the fire. He forced our hands. Perhaps we owe him a debt of gratitude?”

“I guess that depends…” Thomas replied, softly.

“On what?” Richard asked.

“_On where we go from here_.”

With that, Thomas took Richard's face into his hands, and kissed him.


	21. Will You.....?

Thomas knew that having a safe place to be alone was a luxury most men like him did not enjoy. Grantham House lay at their disposal, and he wanted to make the most of their last days together. On the other hand, he didn’t want to rush this. For once in his life, he wanted to take it slow. Richard wasn’t just the object of his lust... he was a _friend_... an _equal_. As their lips parted, breathing heavily, Thomas’s mind felt at war with his own body.

The internal struggle didn’t last for long, because within moments, Richard pulled him out of his chair, and into his strong arms. His hands slowly ran up the length of Thomas’ back, and then down over his bottom, pulling him up against him. Richard’s lips were placing hungry kisses on Thomas’ neck, along his jaw, and onto his shoulder. His hands found the buttons of Thomas’s pajama top, and undid them one by one, until it fell open, exposing Thomas’s bare chest. Richard slipped the pajama top gently off both shoulders, stepping back to gaze at Thomas’s body. 

His eyes lingered on the dark line of hair that led from Thomas’s belly-button down into the waistband of his pajama pants. They dragged slowly upwards, taking in every curve, the definition of every muscle, until they finally met Thomas’s deep brown eyes. “_Beautiful_,” he whispered. 

“Richard, if we do this now, then what will we have to look forward to? I don’t want this to just be another.... “

“_Shhhhhh...._” Richard whispered into his ear, gently placing his finger over Thomas’s lips. “You’ll never just be another _anything_. This is different, _you’re different_... than anyone I’ve ever met. I’m not going to use you and then forget about you. This won’t be the end... if anything, I feel like this is only the _beginning_.” He ran his hands over Thomas’s bare chest, his touch soft as if Thomas was a fragile thing, made of glass. His fingertips lingered on his nipples, soon replaced by his tongue, and Thomas thought he was going to melt into the carpet.

“_Will you make love to me...._?” Thomas breathed almost in a whisper as Richard continued his worship of Thomas’s bare chest.

Richard stood back and stared deeply into Thomas’s eyes. Their breaths were labored, as if there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room. So many feelings passed wordlessly between them... so many years of disappointment and regret... dashed hopes and broken hearts. And stronger than all of them, emerged a feeling that neither of them had dared to entertain before... a feeling that they had been led to believe wasn’t meant for men like them... _hope_.

“_Every day of my life, if I could_,” was his quiet reply.

Thomas let out an audible breath, a cross between a sigh and a sob, as if exhaling all the years of heartache and disappointment away in a single moment. A tear chased down his cheek. He took Richard’s hand into his own, and kissed his fingertips. Then he led him upstairs, and into his room.


	22. Stay With Me....

The afternoon wore on, and upstairs in Thomas’s room, two men lie entwined in each other’s arms, a tangle of limbs and hearts.

“_I don’t want you to go_,” Thomas murmured softly, nuzzling into the nook under Richard’s arm. He breathed in his scent deeply, and felt his desire stir all over again. “_I want you to stay with me forever._”

Richard kissed the top of Thomas’s head, and sighed. “Will you settle for tonight?”

“What? _Do you mean it?_ Don’t you have to _Dress the King_?”

“Normally, yes, but I asked the _Second Dresser_ if he would cover for me tonight and tomorrow. We have more than one, of course. There will always be times when one or the other of us will be called away. There must always be a contingency plan in Royal Service. And besides, they owe me. I haven’t taken a day off in ages.” 

“Did you know how this would turn out? How did you know that I wouldn’t turn you away?”

Richard sat up in the bed and climbed on top of Thomas, their bodies perfectly aligned, his chest supported by beautifully toned arms on either side of Thomas’s shoulders. He lowered his face to within inches of Thomas’s, so that the tips of their noses were almost touching. His back was arched in the most provocative way, and his eyes were so soft and deep, Thomas felt he could get lost in them.

“Because _every single moment_, every heartache, every _lost love,_ has led us to this. Fate brought us together, _Thomas Barrow_, and from this moment on, nothing will get between us, not time nor distance, not man, nor woman. _Nothing could keep me from you_.”

With that, Richard’s eyes shifted down to Thomas’s mouth, and slowly back up to meet his gaze. Their lips met, softly at first, just feather-light kisses that eventually gave way to hungry tongues exploring each other’s mouths with renewed purpose. Richard’s hips began to involuntarily grind against Thomas’s, as the friction between their bodies caused their hearts to race. Thomas pulled his knees up, and wrapped his legs around Richard’s waist.

“_Are you ready for me_?” Richard purred into Thomas’s ear.

“_Always_,” Thomas replied.


	23. Sleepy Kisses

The soft rays of the morning sun kissed Thomas’s face, willing him to wake from his blissful sleep. For the second time since coming to London, he woke in a lover’s arms. Only this time, there was no regret, no loss of self-respect. Only pure, unadulterated _joy_, and something else... something unfamiliar... a deep and abiding _gratitude_. _Someone, somewhere_, was looking out for him. He felt compelled to _pray_. Closing his eyes, he offered up a word of thanks to the God that he was always told didn’t approve of him. He no longer believed it. “_Thank you, Lord_,” he whispered. 

Richard stirred and spooned up behind him, wrapping his arms around his chest and pulling him close, nuzzling his face into Thomas’s neck.

“Good morning, _sleepy head,_” Thomas offered.

“It is, because I’m here with _you_,” Richard replied softly into Thomas’s ear.

“It’s our last day together. What would you like to do?” Thomas asked.

Richard let his free hand roam all over Thomas’s body, coming to rest on his hip bone, his fingers tracing circles on Thomas’s skin. “_I may have some ideas_.”

“You’re _insatiable!_ If I had known what a _handful_ you are I may have gazed longingly at some _other _gorgeous servant at St. James’ Park!” Thomas teased.

“You _like_ having your hands full of me! In fact, you haven’t had your hands _off_ me since I got here!”

“Well if you weren’t so _fucking irresistible_ I wouldn’t have this problem!” Thomas countered with a laugh.

“I can’t help it if I’m _charming_!” Richard retorted with a look of mock innocence.

“Yes, well, _Prince Charming_, I don't mean to disappoint you, but I’m _starving_. That’s the first order of business. Right after I take a bath. Remember, I haven’t been out of bed in almost 24 hours....

“And you’ve expended _quite a lot of energy_, if I recall. No wonder you’ve worked up an appetite!”

“_Shut the fuck up_ and go get us some breakfast while I get in the tub. There’s money in my trouser pockets. And before you get any ideas, there’s no room for _both of us_ in there!”

“Dammit- you read my mind!” Richard quipped.

“_Go_!” Thomas ordered with all the seriousness he could muster (which wasn’t much).

Richard threw on his clothes, and headed out to the nearest café.


	24. Declarations

As the day wore on, Thomas's soul was filled with dread. He was leaving tomorrow. _Leaving Richard behind_. 

Richard could sense the change in Thomas’ demeanor. “You’re sad,” he observed.

“I’m leaving. I finally have everything I’ve ever wanted and I have to leave it all behind. _How can I bear it?_” His sense of gloom was so pervasive that he could barely raise his eyes to meet Richard’s.

“By remembering that nothing can ever come between us.”

“Nothing except hundreds of miles and no guarantee of ever seeing each other again,” Thomas said.

“My parents always taught me that where there was a will, there was a way,” Richard offered, trying to lighten the mood.

Thomas wasn’t in the mood for clichés. “You’re just trying to cheer me up. I don’t think you even believe that yourself.”

“_Pardon me_ for trying to make the most of the time we have left. Worrying about tomorrow only ruins today.”

“I didn’t realize that I was in the presence of the author of _Proverbs_,” Thomas shot back, a bit more sarcastic than he intended. He knew Richard was right. He just couldn’t shake the crushing heartache he felt. “How will we manage, then? How will we make this work? 

“By not being so defeatist, for one thing,” Richard began, as he reached out and pulled Thomas close. “You have to _believe_ it can work, before it will.”

“I’ve been burned before,” Thomas replied.

“Oh ye of little faith! _I’m not Philip_.”

“Then _help me_ understand… _what can we do?_ You’re committed to Royal Service, and you’ve already said it demands 110%. _Should I move to London?_ I could get a job in a shop, or...”

“_Stop right there_, Thomas. You’re getting ahead of yourself. If you remember correctly, _I never said_ I was committed to Royal Service. I said my heart was in _Yorkshire_, and that I longed to put down roots. You already _have_ roots in Yorkshire. It seems to me that the logical course of action would be for _me_ to consider returning home. 

“You would do that for _me_? Give up everything you have here… the glamour of the palace… the ear of the King? **_For me_**?” Thomas couldn’t believe it could be true.

“Well, not _just_ for you. My parents live in York… they’ll be needing me more as the years go by. I have to consider what’s best for them as well. But yes, I _would_ do it, for _us_.”

**_Us_**. Just like that, the cloud of doom disappeared, and Thomas’s heart felt as light as the breeze. Suddenly he had reason to believe that his life could be exactly as he had always dreamed. Richard would come to Yorkshire! The specifics would have to be worked out, of course, but if nothing else, they could meet at his parents’ house, or in a hotel, or… **_Fuck. _** It may have solved the issue of distance, but not the fact they could never be **_together _**together, like Anna and Bates, or Carson and Mrs. Hughes. Their relationship would still have to be hidden in the shadows… clandestine meetings and stolen glances. But still – _there was hope!_ He decided to cling to that instead.

“I don’t know what to say… no one’s ever done anything like this for me before, and….”

“Shhh, don’t get too excited. It’s not going to happen overnight. This requires careful planning… I’ll need a _job_, for one thing. Let me figure this out. In the meantime, we can write letters. And I’ll start visiting my parents more often. _We will make this work, **I promise**_.”

Thomas was so filled with love that he thought his heart would burst. He hadn’t said it to him yet… he didn’t want to cheapen the sentiment by throwing it out there so early in their relationship. And he wasn’t ready for the inevitable lack of reciprocation when he did finally say it. Gay men didn’t fall in love, **_they met up for sex_**. He had _thought _he was in love with Philip, even that Philip had loved _him_, but he realized now that nothing about that relationship was healthy. Nothing about it reflected _love_. He recalled the words he had heard the vicar recite at each of the weddings he had attended: “_Love is patient, love is kind. It seeks not its own…love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails._” 

_Jesus Christ_, how soft he’d become, praying, quoting scripture! This is what love did to him. He knew in the very core of his being that he loved Richard. But did Richard feel the same? He said he was willing to give up everything to be near Thomas… that _had_ to count for something! Thomas was terrified of laying his heart out on the table, open and vulnerable, but it also seemed at the moment that it was absolutely, positively the only thing he could do.... that if he didn't, he would regret it until the end of time.

“_I love you_,” he whispered, as he clung to Richard, tears filling his eyes.

“I know,” Richard replied, and for a moment, Thomas’s heart sank. But then he took Thomas’s face into his hands, and with the most gentle look in his eyes, he placed a feather-soft kiss on Thomas’s lips and said, “_I love you, too_.”


	25. The Last Night in London

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m torn between wanting to wrap this fic up quickly to bring about our happy ending, or continuing my deep dive into feelings, interactions, and conversations. I feel like I may be running the risk of devolving into melodrama. On the other hand, I have a few key scenes that I really want to explore and flesh out, so I ask that you be patient with me, because we’ll get there in the end! Let me know what you think… are you in a hurry? I’m actually kind of enjoying living in this world for a while… I’ll miss it when it’s over!
> 
> I find that I’m really going to have to accelerate the timeline a little bit between the present time and the Royal Visit. I want to incorporate it, but there’s no way I can keep Thomas and Richard waiting three more years for their happy ending! Even I don’t have the patience for that! So please forgive me as I veer off the canon-timeline again. I’m in too deep to charter another course.
> 
> Thank you for hanging out with me for a while! Your comments have kept me motivated! That sounds so cliché, but it really is true! I appreciate you all so much!

The time was quickly approaching when Lady Rosamund’s driver would be dropping off Lord Grantham at Grantham House for their final night in London. Richard and Thomas quickly made the bed and tidied the house, trying to hide all traces of their days and night spent luxuriating in each other’s arms.

“It won’t be long now,” observed Thomas, looking at his watch.

“I should probably go then,” Richard lamented.“

“But you don’t have to be back to work 'til tomorrow morning, right? Maybe I could sneak you upstairs after Robert goes to bed.”

’_Robert’_ – I still can’t believe that he asked you to call him that! And no, Thomas, I won’t be _sneaking_ _in_ like a naughty schoolboy. From here on out, we need to be beyond reproach. We’ll need to rely on the kindness of our friends…they’ll be our lifeline… and if we need to trust _them_ (and we _do_), _we_ need to be trustworthy ourselves. I’m not saying there won’t be a time for hiding. But from all you’ve told me, Robert is a friend and an ally. We can’t afford to violate his trust. This is _his_ house, and when he’s here, he has the right to say who may spend the night under his roof. I won’t infringe on that.”

“_Fucking hell_… OK- I see your point,” Thomas sighed. But maybe you could come to dinner with us? I know he’d like to meet you! You’re all he could talk about last weekend…”

“I don’t want to impose on his hospitality. It would have to be _his_ idea.” Richard asserted. “Why don’t I leave for a while… I’ll take a walk and read the paper or something. I’ll come back shortly, as if I’m just stopping in to say goodbye. Then you can introduce us, and we’ll see where it goes.”

“You’re as devious as I am under that angelic exterior!” Thomas teased. He kissed Richard once on the cheek, and walked him to door. “Give us about ten minutes after he arrives.” With that, Richard left.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Lord Grantham rolled into the house wearing his customary smile. He seemed genuinely happy to be back.

“Thomas, my boy, I enjoy the city, but I always look forward to returning home. Tell me, did you have a pleasant week? Were you able to see any more of Richard?”

“_Quite a bit more_, actually,” Thomas managed to get out with a straight face. He thought to himself how there probably wasn’t one bit of Richard that he _hadn’t_ seen, or touched, or kissed. He cursed the blush creeping into his face.

“Jolly good! I’m so glad. I’ll admit, I am _disappointed_\- I _had_ hoped that I might have the opportunity to meet him.”

“You may at that – he did mention that he might stop by for a moment to say goodbye,” Thomas suggested.

“Excellent! Now what were you thinking for dinner? I was thinking of perhaps the club again… one last chance to see my old school chums….”

Thomas thought back to the last time they visited the club, and the humiliating exchange that he had with Philip. Before he could give his opinion, the doorbell rang. “Excuse me, sir… I’ll get that. It’s probably Richard.”

Upon opening the door, Thomas smiled conspiratorially at Richard and gave a little nod. “Richard- _it’s so good to see you!_ I’m so glad you could stop by! Allow me to introduce you to His Lordship, the Earl of Grantham.”

Richard radiated charm as he gave a slight bow of respect before stepping forward to eagerly grasp Lord Grantham’s hand and give it a sturdy shake. “_It’s an honor_, Your Lordship. Thomas has told me so much about you.” He flashed him his winning smile.

“Mr. Ellis - _dear boy!_ The pleasure’s all mine! Thomas has spoken of little else since coming to London! I admit, my curiosity was piqued! The _King’s Dresser!_ What stories you must have to tell!”

“Quite right, _I d_o- or, I _would_\- if I didn’t hold His Majesty’s trust as my sacred duty and vocation.”

Thomas mentally rolled his eyes. It appeared that Richard may have been laying it on just _a little too thick_. Then again, this was Lord Grantham, and he appeared to be eating it up by the bucketful.

“_Good man!_ I daresay the world needs _more_ men like you. Won’t you join us for dinner? We were thinking of the club. You and Thomas would be my guests, naturally.”

“I would be honored, of course, but I have nothing to wear to the club. I only stopped by because I was in the area. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“_Nonsense_, my boy, you are _most welcome_. And by the look of it, you and Thomas are about the same size. I’m sure he has something you could wear. Thomas, what do you say? Could you get him sorted?”

“Oh I’m sure I can make him presentable,” Thomas replied. “Will _you_ be needing assistance, sir?”

“In a while. You go on and help Richard. I think I’ll have a drink. When you’re done, call down, and I’ll meet you in my room.”

“Very good, sir. I will. And _thank you_.”

“Say nothing of it. A night out with two strapping young lads will certainly give them something to talk about at the club, won’t it? Stir things up a bit!”

“I have no doubt.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Up in his room, Thomas and Richard were giggling like two school girls. Their plan had gone off without a hitch. They were intoxicated with the thrill of it.

“Lord Grantham _literally_ sent us upstairs to take our clothes off,” Thomas laughed. The irony of it all filled him with glee.

“See how much better it is when you do it the right way instead of sneaking around?” Richard asked, dropping to his knees and unbuckling Thomas’s trousers, letting them fall to his ankles. “Now give me two minutes.”

It didn’t even take that long.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As it happens, Richard and Thomas _did _wear the exact same size. Thomas presented him with one of his immaculately tailored suits, freshly cleaned and pressed, while he donned the other. The two of the them looked stunning side by side… both striking and handsome in their own way. Thomas with his jet-black hair and beautifully pale skin… Richard with his rugged charm and boyish good looks. It was enough to send ladies all over London swooning with desire. 

Dinner at the club was an elegant affair, and Richard took it all in with enthusiasm. He regaled Lord Grantham with his many adventures at court, leaving out names and other identifying information so as to maintain the veil of discretion. Lord Grantham was star-struck.

“Just imagine _me_, dining with the man that dresses His Majesty! I still can’t believe it! And to think that you’re a _special friend_ to our Thomas. I’m giddy with thought of it!” 

Thomas wasn’t so sure how he felt about his lover being described as his _special friend_, but he decided to cut Lord Grantham some slack. His intentions were good, if not his execution, and he _had_ had a few too many to drink. Richard thought he was positively _delightful_, and poured on the charm even more. It was almost _obscene _the way the two fawned over each other. Thomas beamed with affection and pride.

From across the room, the Duke of Crowborough sipped his drink and watched the display unfold. He debated whether to go over and say hello. His curiosity won him over, and he casually made his way to the table.

The blood in Thomas’s veins went cold. Under the table, he reached for Richard’s hand, and squeezed it hard. His eyes met Lord Grantham’s for a moment, barely managing to hide the panic in his face. Robert gave a subtle, almost imperceptible nod of understanding.

“Good evening, Duke! Still in London, I see….” Robert offered, bound by the etiquette of _noblesse oblige*. _

“Robert! Here we are again! I trust you had a productive session in Parliament. I’m sure you’ll be glad to return to your lovely family at Downton.”

“It’s always good to get home… of course. No doubt you’re anxious to see your family as well….”

“Oh. Yes. _Of course_,” the Duke replied, not sounding at all convincing.

“I recognize your _footman_, Robert… _Barrow_ is it?” he asked, looking condescendingly at Thomas.

“_Yes_, Your Grace. It’s kind of you to remember,” Thomas replied, in the iciest tone he could manage.

“But I _don’t_ seem to recall _this_ handsome chap. Perhaps you can introduce us.” Philip’s eyes drank in the sight of Richard, as if he had never seen anything more delectable in his life.

“I would, Duke, but to do so would jeopardize national security at the highest levels. He holds a position of utmost importance, and as such, I am not at liberty to say more. Suffice it to say that he is a close friend of Cora and I, and I asked him to show Thomas around the city in my absence as a personal favor.

“Showing Thomas the sights has been my privilege, Your Lordship. I think I showed him the best that London has to offer. _I can’t think of anything we haven’t done_, _can you, Thomas?_” Richard asked, somehow managing to maintain his air of charming sincerity, eyes twinkling with mischief.

Thomas blushed. “_I do believe we’ve done it all, sir_. Thank you for being so _thorough_. You have given me a trip to remember.”

“_Well, there you have it_,” Lord Grantham announced, the innuendo apparently having flown completely over his head. “A good time was had by all, and now we must take our leave. We have an early train in the morning.”

“Safe travels and best wishes to your family,” the Duke offered to Lord Grantham. He nodded curtly at Thomas. “_Barrow._” He then offered his hand to Richard, who reluctantly took it, and gave it a firm shake. “I do so hope to see _you_ again. Perhaps next time I’ll even learn your name.”

Richard flashed him his most gorgeous smile, nodding as if he’d he’d like nothing better and said, “_I doubt it_.”

And with that, they left.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was late when they returned to Grantham House, and the long week combined with generous amounts of alcohol at dinner made Lord Grantham feel extremely tired. 

“The look on his face was priceless! “ Lord Grantham chuckled, “The insufferable _prat!”_

Richard approached Lord Grantham, offering his hand as if to say goodnight. “I can’t thank you enough for your hospitality, Lord Grantham. It’s been my absolute _honor_ to make your acquaintance. I should really be going. I wish you well on your journey home.”

“Oh my boy, the pleasure was all mine. Please feel free to visit Downton _anytime... _we’d love to have you! Goodness, _is that the time?_ It’s far too late for you to venture out...why don’t you stay the night? Lord knows we have the room. We can drop you at the palace in the morning.”

“That’s very kind, Your Lordship. Are you sure?” Richard pressed.

“_Quite_ sure. I’m going up now. I’ll leave you in Thomas’s capable hands...he’ll get you situated.” He looked at Thomas, smiled, and winked. “Goodnight!”

Thomas and Richard smiled at each other in astonished delight. Richard wrapped his arms around Thomas's waist, and pulled him in tightly against him.“I told you there was no need to _sneak_, my love. Just be nice, and people will _want_ to help! He placed several small kisses on Thomas's neck. _You catch more bees with honey._”

“My beautiful philosopher," Thomas whispered into Richard’s ear... "You were _amazing_ tonight. I couldn't take my eyes off you. I’ll never wash that suit again. I hope it smells like you forever.”

"It won't be long, my darling, and you'll have _me_, forever," Richard reassured him. “Now give me one of those _capable hands.”_

He took one of Thomas's hands in his own, holding it aloft, with the his other hand possessively around his waist. They began to sway gently in a silent dance. Ever so softly, Richard began to sing: 

> _Your eyes so blue_
> 
> _ Your kisses too_
> 
> _ I never knew what they could do_
> 
> _ I can't believe.... _
> 
> _ you're in love with me..._

He felt quiet sobs against his chest. He tilted Thomas's head up, and placed a gentle kiss upon each of his eyelids, and one on his lips. He then cradled Thomas’s head softly against his chest. "_Shhhh_... it's ok, my love.... I promise.... _it will all be ok_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Noblesse Oblige - the concept that those with noble ancestry must conduct themselves in a manner befitting their status; that they have a responsibility to act honorably and charitably
> 
> ** Song at the end was written by Jimmy McHugh and Clarence Gaskill in 1926, recorded by Billie Holiday in 1933 and later by Frank Sinatra in 1960. It’s called, "I Can't Believe That You're In Love With Me“


	26. I Can't Leave You

The alarm clock on Thomas’s bedside table went off with a startling jangle. It was set for 4:30 am. He knew that Richard needed to be back to the palace early, with their train departing not long after. He groaned and flailed his arm around, trying to shut it off. _“Ten more minutes*….”_ he implored under his breath. 

Richard stirred next to him. “Thomas, it’s time.”

“Not yet. I can’t face it. I can’t let you go.”

Richard rolled him over so that they were facing each other. He could only barely make out his features in the dim light coming from the window. He ran his fingers over his cheek and smiled, gently kissing the tip of his nose. 

Thomas ran his hand over Richard’s chest and down his body. Slinking down under the blankets, he turned himself around and took Richard into his mouth. Richard positioned himself so that he could do the same for Thomas. Their mutual act of giving was their final gift to one another. No words were needed. When they both shuddered through their completion, Thomas emerged from the blankets, his mouth instinctively finding Richard’s. Their kiss was deep and long, filled with desperation. It was to be their last for many months, and Thomas never wanted it to end. He wanted to burn the memory of the taste of them both, mingled together in his mouth, into his DNA. He poured every ounce of love and longing he had for Richard into his kiss.

Finally they rose, and quietly dressed. When everything was ready, Thomas knocked gently on Lord Grantham’s door. He helped him dress and pack, and when he was ready, he and Richard carried all their bags down to Lady Rosamund’s waiting car.

Thomas opened the back door of the car for Lord Grantham to climb in. “I think I’ll sit in front with the driver this time! I’ve never ridden up front before!” he exclaimed, feigning excitement. Thomas knew that it was usually a servant that would ride in front, while the nobility would traditionally ride in back. It was an act of kindness towards Thomas and Richard to forgo this formality so that they could sit together. Richard met Lord Grantham’s eyes and smiled- a way of thanking him without calling him out. Robert gave a tiny nod. “Right! _We’re off_.”

The ride to the palace passed in silence. Thomas and Richard’s hands lay between them on the seat, their fingers laced together, their knees pressed hard against one another as though the pressure could calm the frantic beating of their hearts. If Lord Grantham had noticed either, he said nothing.

The car came to a stop outside the gate by the servant’s entrance. Lord Grantham, Richard, and Thomas got out. Lord Grantham once again shook Richard’s hand, while his left hand gave his shoulder a hearty pat. “Be well, my boy! Tell me, do you ever come to Yorkshire for the holidays?”

“I sometimes go home for Christmas, yes. ”

“My daughter Edith is getting married on New Year’s Eve… it will be a grand affair. Cora and I would be _thrilled_ if you would come!”

“I will certainly do my best then, Your Lordship. And thank you so much again, for _everything_.” Richard leaned in towards Robert as if to give him a brief hug. _“Take care of him,”_ he whispered. With that, Robert gave his arm a quick squeeze of acknowledgement, and got back into the car.

Richard turned to face Thomas, who looked stricken with sorrow. They stood in silence, holding each other’s gaze, their eyes saying everything that their voices could not. Finally Thomas threw himself into Richard’s arms and hugged him desperately, one solitary sob escaping from his lips. They remained enjoined for much longer than would be considered a polite parting. Finally Richard broke the embrace. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver pendant, and pressed it into Thomas’s hand, closing his fingers around it, and giving his hand a final squeeze. “**_To remember me by_**.” He smiled one of his brightest smiles, and gave Thomas a wink before he turned and entered through the gate, and out of sight.

“**_As if I could ever forget_**,” Thomas whispered.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Thomas climbed into the car, and they drove in silence to the train station.

“Wait for me over there, Thomas, while I go buy our tickets,” Lord Grantham said kindly, appreciating how low Thomas was feeling at the moment.

Thomas gathered their bags, and moved them to the platform marked “Yorkshire.”

Lord Grantham returned, and gave Thomas a firm pat on the arm. “Be strong, my boy. The day is not over yet. And I daresay we’re on the wrong platform. We need to move our bags over there.”

Thomas lifted his eyes and looked to where Lord Grantham was pointing. The sign read

“**M A N C H E S T E R**.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Snoozing is a universal human trait.


	27. The Staff Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa boy... here's the big "Staff Meeting." This is not a warm and fuzzy chapter like the others... I apologize for that... but it was necessary to move the story forward.
> 
> Just an FYI - you may notice when re-reading a chapter that things have changed. I am *constantly* revising and updating chapters to try to improve them. A lot of times I write later in the evening when I'm tired. The next morning, I re-write whole paragraphs! So don't be alarmed. 
> 
> Thank you again for coming along on the ride with me!

Back at Downton, Lady Grantham had asked Carson and Mrs. Hughes to gather the staff together on Friday afternoon for a meeting in the servant’s hall. She was quite insistent that everyone be present, so it had to wait until Mr. Mosely was back from his job teaching school. The only exceptions were the hall boys and junior maids, who were dismissed after their morning tasks were complete. Cora told Mrs. Patmore not to worry about making a large dinner. She wanted to make sure that everyone would be able to attend the meeting undistracted by the demands of their household chores.

There was a buzz of intrigue amongst the staff, as no one knew what the meeting was about. There was a general feeling of dread, however. Such gatherings usually meant lay-offs, or some other ominous announcement such as someone dying _(had anyone seen the Dowager this week? How has Mrs. Crawley been feeling lately?_). Their thoughts turned to His Lordship and Thomas, gone several weeks now in London. _Had something horrible happened?_ They prayed not.

When everyone had assembled, including Lady Grantham, Lady Mary, Tom, and Henry, Cora gave Carson a nod, and he stood up. All the staff instinctually moved to stand up with him, but he entreated them to remain seated. He cleared his throat loudly.

“Please quiet down now and give your full attention to Lady Grantham. I ask that you hold all questions until she has finished her address. Your Ladyship, _the floor is yours_.”

“Thank you, Carson. The family has asked you to gather here today, because we would like to discuss something with you that is of a delicate nature. It concerns one of our own. We ask that you listen with an open mind, and more importantly, with an open heart. We ask for kindness, for understanding, and a charitable spirit.”

“We have always considered our staff to be an extension of our family. You have all been with us for quite some time, and together we have weathered the storms of life. We have survived tragedy and war, senseless deaths and unjust convictions. Our lives have been intertwined with each other’s like a tapestry, telling the story of Downton. And through it all, we have grown together, and experienced life’s milestones together. We have fallen in love, gotten married, had children, and are growing old, _together._ Through our shared experience, some of us have found love right here under this roof. There is Anna and Bates, Carson and Mrs. Hughes, Daisy and William. Tom found Lady Sybil, and Mr. Mosely and Ms. Baxter and Mrs. Patmore and Mr. Mason have been known to step out together from time-to-time. The point is, that you have all had the opportunity to find love and purpose, and we have supported and celebrated that. But one amongst us has not had this opportunity. Do you know who I mean?”

“_Mr. Barrow_?” offered Daisy.

“Thank you, Daisy. _Yes_. Thomas has been with us since he was 14 years old. He came to us from a very unhappy and unsupportive home. Downton has been, for all intents and purposes, his home and his family for the last 17 years. I don’t think I am surprising anyone when I say that many of these years have not been happy ones. Can anyone tell me why that might be?”

“He pushes people away,” Anna offered.

“He’s been better lately, but it wasn’t long ago that he was mean and conniving. He was always plotting ways to get other people in trouble,” Bates suggested.

“When he ran the convalescent home, he was arrogant and bossy,” admitted Mrs. Patmore.

“He had a friend once in Jimmy, but then something happened between them, and Jimmy hated him. Eventually he forgave him, and they were friends again. But not before Thomas took a beating that was meant for Jimmy at the carnival in Thirsk,” Daisy added.

Cora began again:

“I think we can all agree that it’s been a rocky road for Thomas over the years. And it all comes down to one thing: _he doesn’t feel that he is accepted for who he is_. I want to speak frankly now, and I need to know what the general understanding is amongst you. I don’t wish to violate Thomas’s privacy, but this is central to who he is, and why he feels as he does. And I don’t think it’s a secret amongst the staff, or at least a _well-kept_ one. Raise your hands if you know what I’m referring to.” All hands were raised.

“Daisy, of all the people here, you’re the one I was most concerned with regarding this. Can you tell me what you think you know about Mr. Barrow?”

“Mrs. Patmore said that he’s not a ladies’ man. That he doesn’t like women.”

“OK. Raise your hand if you agree with Daisy.” All hands went up.

“So we all understand each other, and we are not revealing a big secret here today. Of course this is Mr. Barrow’s private business. But it has affected his life in such a way that it wasn’t very long ago that he made a tragic decision borne of despair that almost cost him his life. Again, raise your hand if you know what I’m referring to.” All hands raised. “OK. So again, there are no secrets among us.”

“Then let us speak openly and honestly. Mr. Barrow is a homosexual man. That does not mean that he doesn’t _like_ women. It means that he is _attracted_ to men, romantically, and sexually. That does not mean that the men here are at risk. Homosexual men seek out other homosexual men. What happened with Jimmy was an unfortunate misunderstanding . Someone told him that Jimmy was interested in him, and he acted on that information. He may not have gone about it in the right way, but who among us hasn’t done something foolish for love?”

“So why can’t he just _not be like that_?” asked Daisy.

“That’s a good question, and I’m glad you asked it, Daisy. People like Thomas are born that way, they don’t choose it. And it often leads to a very difficult life. They are sometimes teased, and abused, and because it’s considered a crime, they can be harassed by the law, or arrested. In the old days, they were even hanged. All for something that they can’t change. And while all of you can be open and honest about finding love and romance, Thomas doing the same thing could land him _in jail._ Because of this, homosexuals must hide who they are, and what they’re doing, _all the time_. They live in _constant fear_ of their secret being exposed. Anyone who knows their secret could use it against them, and ruin their lives. That may be why Thomas didn’t want to get close to anyone. He was afraid you’d find out his secret, and use it against him. It may also explain why he tried to find out secrets about other people… so that he would have leverage to use if anyone threatened to expose his. Does any of this help you understand why Thomas may have been so unfriendly at times? He knew he was different, and he lived in constant fear that it would be used against him. And he never felt that he could feel free to love another person, as all of you have done. The door to happiness of that kind has been slammed shut for him and men like him by our society. Do you understand?” Everyone nodded.

“On top of this struggle, we suggested to Thomas that our household finances couldn’t support his position any longer, and that he should look elsewhere for employment. After 17 years of loyal service, we acted as if he wasn’t a valuable member of his household. We didn’t consider how this might have made him feel. And because of all of this, several months, ago, Thomas tried to take his own life. He survived the War, but decided that he would rather be _dead_ than live this life as it has been at Downton. And I don’t know about the rest of you, but when I found out about what he did, it _broke my heart_. I wept for him. And I think I speak for the entire family when I say this. We accept our part of the responsibility for this, and we regret it terribly. By the quick-thinking and heroic efforts of some of our own staff, Thomas survived that day, and has been given a second chance. And now we must take our second chance to do right by him.”

“What I am asking of you should not be difficult, but if you think it might be, then you must say so, tonight. We _must be_ of one mind and one heart in this.”

“_I am asking that we bear his secret, together_. That we _share his burden_. That we allow him to feel safe among us, to be himself, without risk of ridicule or baseless fears, or exposure to others from the outside. **_We are his family_**. He needs to feel accepted and loved and protected. I am asking that we ‘circle the wagons,’ so to speak, so that when a threat comes from the outside, that we protect our own.”

“Does that mean you want us to lie?” Daisy asked.

“No, Daisy, not _lie_. I ask that you use _discretion_. Which means that if anyone on the outside should ever ask us about whether Thomas is a homosexual, or has engaged in homosexual activities, we respond by saying that Mr. Barrow’s sex life is his own business, and not something we involve ourselves in. And leave it at that. If someone in authority is asking the questions, you should refer them to Lord Grantham or myself, and we will handle them. Please know that this is the same respect that we would offer any of you.”

“Is there anyone here who does not feel that they can be part of this plan? If so, please speak now.”

Carson grumbled under his breath.

“Mr. Carson, do you have something to add?” asked Cora.

“Pardon me, Your Ladyship, but I must speak my mind. I _just_ don’t think that _coddling_ a member of our staff is a good idea. I think we all must follow our own consciences in this regard. After all, the law _and the Bible_ both say that….”

“Mr. Carson, I am _aware_ of what both the law and the Bible say on the subject. I am also aware that the law and the Bible were once used to justify slavery. Laws can be wrong, and laws can change. And the Bible says that _loving our neighbor_ trumps every other commandment. I am asking that we love Thomas as our neighbor, as our friend, and as our family. And if anyone feels that they cannot, then perhaps this household is not the place for you.”

Carson looked scandalized.

Lady Mary gently added, “Carson, you know we care a great deal for you, and would support you in whatever way we could. We are only asking for the same courtesy for Barrow. I know it may come as a challenge for you, but I believe you can rise to it. I want to stress that our family is of one mind in this…. Papa feels the exact same way. In fact, he took Barrow to London to give him a reprieve from his struggles here at Downton. It was a vacation more than anything else. He had even hoped that he might have the opportunity to meet someone and to fall in love. And yes, Carson, **_we support this,_** don’t we Tom, Henry?”

“We do,” they both agreed.

“And on that subject,” Lady Mary continued, “we have decided that Thomas deserves more privacy than the servant’s quarters afford him. We have traditionally offered a cottage to our staff who marry and remain in our employ. We have decided to do the same for Thomas.”

“But he’s not married!” protested Daisy.

“And he _never will be_, Daisy,” Lady Grantham answered. “But someday he may find someone special that he wants to share his life with, and we feel that they would deserve the same privacy that our other couples enjoy. We have restored the old gardener’s cottage for him, and we are going to present it to him in the near future. It is going to be surprise, so I don’t want you to breathe a word of it to him!”

“Shouldn’t you wait until he finds someone special to give him the cottage?” Anna asked.

“I think Mr. Barrow deserves his privacy now, Anna,” Cora resumed. “He’s a 31 year-old man. He may not even want it yet, but I want him to feel that it’s available for him should he need it. Again, I will be blunt. I don’t want Thomas to risk his safety by engaging in sexual encounters where he could get caught. It is our desire that he have a safe place to live his life, with the utmost discretion, of course, in _privacy_. Lord Grantham has already decided that if anyone questioned it, that we would say that the cottage was serving as staff quarters. That is not technically a lie.”

“Does anyone have anything to say or ask about what we’ve spoken about here today?”

Everyone remained silent.

“Then can I count on all of you to join me and the rest of our family in our efforts to do right by Thomas?”

Everyone agreed.

“Then we can put our plan into action very soon. We expect them home tomorrow.”


	28. The Clouds Lift

Thomas sat quietly across from Lord Grantham in the First Class coach on the train bound for Manchester. The mood was light years away from the easy camaraderie that they had shared on the train to London three weeks ago.

His heart felt wrung-out, like it had nothing more to give. In fact, he wasn’t sure his heart was even in his chest anymore. It felt like it had been carved out and left in London at the gates to Buckingham Palace.

The detour to Manchester was a surprise. He wasn’t angry with Robert, exactly, but he didn’t like having a gun held to his head. After the emotional parting with Richard earlier this morning, he didn’t feel he could face the inevitable anguish of his father’s rejection. There would be nothing to be gained from telling Robert this, however. He had meant well, after all.

“Thomas,” Lord Grantham said, breaking the uncomfortable silence between them as if reading his mind, “I believe that I may have miscalculated rather badly. After our conversation on the train, I thought I would surprise you by accompanying you to see your father. It doesn’t seem to have been the right decision. I apologize. As soon as we arrive in Manchester we can make for Downton straight away. I didn’t mean to force your hand.” 

**_Bless him and his kind heart._**Thomas had never had anyone treat his feelings with such consideration before. Lord Grantham had made an investment in trying to heal Thomas’s relationship with his father, as ill-timed as it was. The least he could do was go along with it.

“Thank you, Your Lordship, but we can go. There’s no point in being so close and not going to see him. It’s been a long time… I’m well-overdue for a visit. Having you there will make it easier. ” Thomas gave him a deflated smile.

“Thomas, I know it’s hard leaving a friend behind. Do you want to talk about it?”

Maybe this was part of his new resolution- being open and honest with those who cared. He had never _had _anyone that cared before… he never “talked about” anything that was bothering him _out loud_. Baxter had tried, _God love her_, but he never took her up on it. He thought it was a sign of weakness to have to “talk about it.” Not to mention that he couldn’t talk about **_that_**… his _secret shame_ that dare not show itself lest it shock and disgust, or worse, leave him in a vulnerable position. This… _trust_…. was new and frightening, but it had to be better than the alternative. Was this how other people managed? Maybe talking about it actually helped.

“He wasn’t just a friend to me, Robert.”

“I know.”

“_I love him_.”

There. He had said it out loud, and a lightning bolt hadn’t crashed down from the heavens to smite him.

“Did you tell him so?”

“In every way I know how.”

“And does he love you too?”

“He says he does. But I’ve heard that before. Philip…. _The Duke of Crowborough_…..”

“There’s _no comparison_, Thomas. The Duke can’t hold a candle to Richard. And he was never right for you. That divide was too wide to cross, even under the best of circumstances. Richard is a perfect match… anyone can see that.”

“And I have _some_ reason to hope…” Thomas continued, “He said he wants to return to Yorkshire someday. And not just because of his parents….he loves the countryside, the land. He’s getting tired of life in London… he wants to put down roots and settle down.”

“That’s _cracking_ news, Barrow, don’t you think? Why are you not jumping for joy? Isn’t this just what you’ve wanted? Although I do admit that I like the thought of him serving His Majesty. But I suppose with all that he’s seen and heard, he’s well-suited to make a success of himself _anywhere_ he goes.”

“Don’t you see? He could never settle down with _me_. We could never have a home _together_. Of course I’m thrilled that he’s considering a return to Yorkshire, but it won’t change the fact that we will still need to live separate lives, and meet only in secret.”

“Don’t despair, my boy. _Where there’s a will, there’s a way_.”

A look of recollection came over his Thomas’s face. “That’s funny. Richard said the _exact same thing_.”

“I’d take that as a sign, then. That, and the _fortune cookie_,” Robert chuckled. “I’d say the universe is giving you a message…. that the _stars are aligning_ in your favor. I see reason to _celebrate_, not lament. And let’s not forget, he may be coming to Downton for Lady Edith’s wedding. And there’s always the odd trip to London I may need to take between now and then. I’ll bring you with me. I believe St. James’ Park is particularly fetching in autumn……” His eyes twinkled as he gave Thomas’s arm a reassuring squeeze.

This brief conversation with Robert was all it took to lift the cloud that had been hovering over Thomas’s heart. Suddenly he felt that anything was possible, and that the universe might actually allow him to find a sliver of happiness. He realized that perhaps the reason it had all been so grim before is that he tried to go it alone, to be an island unto himself, filtering all of his problems through the midnight blackness of all the heartaches and failures that had gone before. He saw for the first time how sharing your problems with someone who genuinely _cared_ could actually give you a new perspective. Everything looked brighter in the light of day. Just like that, Thomas was ready to face the world once again. He met Lord Grantham’s eyes, and smiled. “Thank you, Your Lordship. You’ve helped me more than you’ll ever know.”


	29. Mr. Barrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter contains several homophobic slurs (used in the context of the story)

As Thomas led Lord Grantham further into the working-class neighborhoods of Manchester, a sense of anxiety overtook him. It had been 17 years since he had been home. Had his father changed? Would he be happy to see him? And then there was Robert. His Lordship was accustomed to living in luxury, dining with nobility. Had he ever even been inside a working man’s house? Would he be disgusted? Thomas was suddenly flooded with worry and shame. How could he ever have thought this was a good idea? 

As they came upon Thomas’ childhood home, Thomas couldn’t help but notice how run-down it looked. When Thomas was a boy, it was his responsibility to trim the grass and pull the weeds. It now appeared that no one had performed those tasks in a very long time. As they approached the front door, he looked nervously at Lord Grantham, who gave him an encouraging look. 

“_Steady on_, my boy,” he said.

Thomas knocked at the door, and waited for endless minutes until he heard a shuffling sound inside. His heart raced. (_Deep breath. You can do this. He can’t hurt you anymore)._

“Tommy- is that _you_?” A man of about 70 answered the door, squinting in the brightness of the afternoon sun. The years had been hard on him. He was disheveled and unkempt, his face lined with the wrinkles of a man who lived hard and drank harder. 

“It is, Papa. It’s me.”

“Who’s that with you? Are you in _trouble_?” He sized up Lord Grantham from head-to-toe, noticing his fine clothing and refined manner. “What’s my Tommy-boy done this time?”

“I’m not in trouble, Papa. Can we come in?”

Mr. Barrow looked unsure, but shifted backwards to allow Thomas and Lord Grantham to enter the house. He stood expectantly, waiting for some kind of explanation. 

Thomas scanned the room, assessing the situation. The house appeared frozen in time. In all the years that Thomas had been gone, little had changed- not the furniture, nor the books on the shelves. It just seemed so much smaller, somehow, and so cluttered, with a certain _smell_ that reminded Thomas of the men’s privy at a public house. Thomas was used to the immaculate grand halls and sweeping galleries of Downton Abbey. He felt a sense of shame that Robert was here, taking it all in.

“Papa, I would like to present His Lordship, the Earl of Grantham. I have served him these past 17 years in his home in Yorkshire, _Downton Abbey_.”

“_Delighted_ to meet you, Mr. Barrow. I have heard a great deal about you,” Lord Grantham offered kindly, extending his hand.

“Tommy told you about _me_?” Mr. Barrow asked in disbelief. He took Robert’s hand and gave it a tentative shake. “William Barrow. It’s an honor, m’Lord.”

With that, Mr. Barrow hurried to clear the sitting room chairs of the piles of newspapers, dishes, and clothing that seemed to be everywhere. “Please sit down. I’m sorry it’s not presentable. I’m alone here, you see. Tommy-boy, make _His Lordship_ some tea.”

Thomas nodded, suddenly 14 years old again. He entered the kitchen, struggling to find any clean teacups. The water that ran from the pump had a brownish tinge to it. He filled the kettle, and put it on the flame. It would have to do. 

Back in the sitting room, Lord Grantham did his best to make polite conversation. 

“Thomas and I are just on our way home from London. I asked him to accompany me as my _personal assistant_. I simply couldn’t have managed without him.”

Mr. Barrow squinted his eyes. “_Thomas?_ Is _that_ what you call him?”

“That _is_ his name, is it not?” Lord Grantham asked, confused.

“Seems a little high-and-mighty to me. We just called him Tommy. ‘Course he always was a _fancy boy_. Did he tell you what I caught him doin’ back in the day? Had to straighten him out... tried to make a man out’ve him. By the looks of it, doesn’t seem to have worked.”

Thomas stood in the doorway, listening to everything his father said. His face fell, his eyes staring at the floor. Lord Grantham stiffened in his chair.

“Your son is a _fine_ young man, Mr. Barrow. He served his country honorably on the Somme. He even returned from the war to manage a convalescent home for returning soldiers.”

“I’m surprised the army let him in. When your life’s on the line, you don’t want to have to rely on a _nancy_ to save you. Tommy-boy, where’s that tea?”

Thomas returned with three cups of tea, and handed one to each of them. He caught Robert’s eye, glanced quickly down at the tea and back up, giving a barely imperceptible shake of his head, silently warning Lord Grantham that he should _definitely_ _not drink_ the tea. Lord Grantham gave a slight nod of acknowledgment.

“See here, Mr. Barrow, I want you to know that Thomas has been an exemplary member of my household for years. I would trust him with my _life_. In fact, he bravely ran into a burning room to save my daughter from a fire. Our family could never repay our debt of gratitude. You have _every reason_ to be very proud of your son.”

Mr. Barrow looked over at Thomas. “This true?”

Thomas lowered his eyes in humility. He wasn’t used to receiving such high praise.

“The thing is,” Mr. Barrow continued, “Tommy never did get anything right. Couldn’t even get along in school. All the other boys made fun of ‘im. Didn’t have any friends. Only the one boy, who was a _faggot_ like him. Caught ‘em all tangled up together in the...”

“Papa **STOP!**” Thomas shouted. “_Don’t say another word!_”

“The man’s got a right to know what he’s mixed up with.”

Lord Grantham put his tea down and stood up abruptly. His face was red with anger.

“Mr. Barrow, this is your home, and you may speak as you wish. But I will _not_ sit idly by and listen to you denigrate your son. He has been nothing but _loyal_, _hard-working_, and _responsible_ for as long as I have known him. And as a matter of fact, I don’t _give a damn _ who he gets ‘_tangled_ _up’ _with_._ It doesn’t concern me. What bothers me is that he ever felt his failure to please you was somehow his fault. You should be _ashamed_ for treating him this way. I _wanted_ him to come here today, in fact, I purposely brought him here, so that he could make peace with you. But I would not fault him if he felt he could not. You have been nothing but hurtful towards him since we got here. I want you to know,” he stated, as he raised his eyes to meet Thomas’s, speaking directly to him now, holding his gaze, “that I would be proud to call Thomas my own son. And even though he is not, I still couldn’t be prouder of him.” Thomas closed his eyes as the tears fell. He inhaled deeply. It was as if he was finally free of the ghosts of his past. His father couldn’t hurt him anymore, because Lord Grantham was here, and he was proud of him. He put his tea down and moved towards the door. Robert followed him, turning only briefly.

"Thank you for the tea, Mr. Barrow. Good day to you.” With that, he stepped through the door.

Thomas looked at his father and felt nothing but pity. “_I forgive you_,” he said, and left.

Once they were out of sight of the house, Lord Grantham stopped walking and reached out to touch Thomas’s arm. Thomas stopped, confused, and turned towards him. Robert opened his arms, and pulled Thomas into a warm embrace, holding him tightly as Thomas finally let the years of sorrow, anger, and shame pour out of him, wracking his body with sobs. Many minutes later, when all the tears were cried, he stood up tall and wiped his face. Lord Grantham patted him affectionately on the back.

“C’mon, my boy. **_Let’s go home_**.


	30. A Weight Lifted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a tiny mini-chapter to keep the story moving along. I have a lot going on today, I apologize!

The return to Downton felt almost surreal. As their car pulled up to front of the house, the family and staff assembled outside to greet them. Thomas felt the strange dissonance of not knowing _quite_ how he fit in anymore; for the last three weeks, and especially today, he was more of _son_ than a servant to Lord Grantham. He wondered how they would ever go back to the structured formality of a master-servant relationship.

Once the family went inside, Carson addressed Thomas. “Mr. Barrow, I trust you had a relaxing trip. Mrs. Patmore has put aside your supper for you. Take the rest of this evening to get reacclimated. I will expect you to resume your duties _in full_ tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, Mr. Carson. _Thank you_.”

_* * * * * * * * *_

Down in the servant’s hall, the staff was engaged in various forms of recreation while waiting for the bells to summon them up to the family.

“It’s good to have you back, Mr. Barrow!” said Anna. “It doesn’t feel like Downton Abbey without you!”

“I hope you had an enjoyable trip…” Ms. Baxter smiled. “Did you do anything _exciting_?”

Thomas let his mind drift back to days spent in bed entangled in Richard's arms, almost _delirious_ with ecstasy.

“Oh, well,_ you know_..… just a bit of sight-seeing is all. Tried _Chinese_ food.”

The staff seemed eager to engage him, and he responded in turn. He told them of the things he had done and seen on his walks through London… the food he had sampled, the exotic people he had encountered. He didn’t offer any indication that he and Lord Grantham had done anything unusual together, like dine at the Ritz or the club, or attend the theatre. He held those memories close to his own heart, something only for him and His Lordship to share. On days when he was feeling low, he could draw on those memories to lift his spirits.

“Did you meet anyone _special_ while you were there?” Daisy asked innocently. Thomas nearly spit out his drink.

“_Daisy!_” Mrs. Patmore admonished. “That is _none of your business_!”

“Well Lady Grantham said…”

“That’s enough of that, Daisy! Come help me with the dishes,” Mrs. Patmore said, as she swept her out of the hall.

Thomas could sense that the air in the room had changed. The easy fellowship that had just existed between them all had been replaced by a feeling of charged tension. Thomas’s old fears of being the “outcast” came to the surface.

“What Daisy _meant_ was, that she hoped you….” Baxter began, trying to backpedal Daisy’s remark.

Bates was having none of it.

“Daisy meant _exactly_ what she said, Thomas. It’s time we stopped walking on eggshells around you. Everyone in this house, upstairs and down, knows your “_secret_,” and the fact is, _none_ of us think any less of you for it. We may have started out as enemies, but like it or not, we’re in this life together… all of us… and it’s time we started acting like the family that we are. Everyone deserves a chance at love and happiness, Thomas, _even you._ I think I speak for everyone when I say that you have nothing to fear from _anyone_ in this house. When the time comes, we’ll have your back."

He walked over and put his face close to Thomas's ear. "_Personally_," he said softly so that only Thomas could hear, a hint of a smile in his voice, "I hope you _do_ find someone. Maybe getting _laid_ on the regular will make you less of a _bastard_." With that, Mr. Bates patted Thomas on the back, and walked towards the door. Thomas wanted to feel angry, or embarrassed, or violated in some way, but he found that he just _couldn’t_. It was as if a huge burden had been lifted off his shoulders. All he felt, in the depth of his soul, was _relief. _

A blush rose to his cheeks, and a smile of genuine delight crept unbidden across his face. "_Just so_, Mr. Bates. _Just so_."


	31. Would you do us the honor?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick note to request that if you read the previous chapter (Chapter 30) shortly after I posted it, please go back and read it again. (It's very short). I wrote it quickly before I had to go somewhere, and posted it on my way out the door. I was unsatisfied with it almost immediately, knowing it was more of a "first draft" but wanting to get an update out there. After very helpful discussions with some friends in the comments, I've re-worked it, and I'm much happier with it now. Please give it another look. Thank you!

The next morning, Thomas sought out Mr. Carson in the butler’s pantry. 

“Excuse me, Mr. Carson, but I’d like to inquire about the status of my reference. I trust that His Lordship didn’t give you an unfavorable report of my job performance while in London?”

Thomas knew not to assume anything when it came to his tenuous position at Downton. Lord Grantham may have assured him of his support while he was in his employ, but staffing decisions regarding the male servants were left to _Carson_. And Carson seemed eager to see him leave.

“It appears you have been granted a _reprieve_, Mr. Barrow. Don’t pack your bags just yet. And I would ask that you assume the duties of wine service at dinner from here on out. You may go.”

Thomas left the room, and upon entering the hall had to brace himself against the wall. He took a deep breath, releasing it as a sigh. His position was _safe_, at least for now. And furthermore, he was being asked to take on a duty that was traditionally the sole purview of the butler of the house. _Wine service_ held a bit of prestige, and as such was jealously guarded by Mr. Carson.

“Well fuck _me_”, he thought, and carried on with a gleeful spring in his step.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Lord Grantham had met with Carson first thing after breakfast to get the full report of the events during his absence. Cora had already told him that the staff meeting to discuss Thomas’s.... _situation_... had gone rather well. Carson’s response was to be expected, of course, and nothing he was _too_ worried about. _More_ concerning were the visible tremors in Carson’s hands. He decided to ask him about them.

“I’m sorry, Your Lordship. I’ve been trying to keep it under control. It’s a condition that runs in my family... both my father and grandfather had it. Ended the careers of them both. There’s nothing for it. I’m afraid my days as butler of Downton are numbered.”

“Surely it’s not as bad as _all that_,” Lord Grantham replied. “Couldn’t you stay on as an advisor, to help oversee the running the household?”

“I wouldn’t accept the position under those terms, _m’Lord_, and I would not expect my replacement to, either. It would undermine the authority of the butler, which is his due. No, it’s all or nothing with me, and I fear it must be the latter. I will begin interviewing for my replacement at once.”

“Carson,” Lord Grantham offered gently, not wanting to be insensitive to the gravity of the situation, “forgive me for saying so, but isn’t the solution right under our noses?”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean, m’Lord.”

“_Barrow?_ He is the Under-Butler, after all. He has the experience, and goodness knows he has been trained by the best.”

“A man of Mr. Barrow’s.... _nature._... might bring scandal down upon your household, m’Lord. I’m not sure I can recommend it.”

“Oh... I think you can let _me_ worry about that, Mr. Carson. Shall we bring Barrow in?”

“As you wish, m’Lord.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Thomas joined Lord Grantham and Mr. Carson in the library. 

“_You wished to see me_, Your Lordship?” he asked, his face wearing the steely indifference of a servant standing before his master. There was no hint of the casual _repartee_ that was the hallmark of their time together in London.

“Yes, Barrow. We have a _situation_, and I am wondering if you could possibly be of assistance,” Lord Grantham declared, his tone giving nothing away.

“I’m always glad to be of service, m’Lord. In what way can I help?” Thomas asked.

“It appears that Mr. Carson is ready to commence his well-earned retirement. That leaves Downton without a butler,” Lord Grantham replied.

Thomas’s mouth went dry, and his heart began to race. _(It won’t be me. Carson doesn’t like me. I’m not even old enough to be a proper butler, I’m only 31)._

“Are you asking me for _recommendations_, m’Lord, or to _fill in_ until Mr. Carson’s replacement is found?”

“Thomas,” Lord Grantham said, breaking the proper protocol of calling a butler only by his last name. Thomas dropped the mask of a servant to turn and meet Lord Grantham’s eyes. They were soft, and kind, and seemed to be willing him to remember all the sentiments that had passed between them in the past three weeks. “What I’m asking is would _you_ do us the honor of being the butler of Downton Abbey?”

Thomas’s heart literally stopped. At least it seemed to have done. He could not believe what he was hearing. His eyes held fast to Robert’s, looking for confirmation that what he had heard was really true. The moment dragged on just a little too long.

“**_Ah-Hem. _**Yes, _well_, I wouldn’t want to _force your hand_, Mr. Barrow,” said Carson, obviously uncomfortable with the casual intimacy of the exchange he was witnessing between Thomas and Lord Grantham.

“And I don’t want to _twist your arm_, Mr. Carson,” Thomas replied.

And just like that, Thomas Barrow became the butler of Downton Abbey.


	32. The Changing of the Guard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a snippet, but more to come....

The transition to butler was more involved than Thomas had imagined. There were logbooks, and inventory, the wine cellar to maintain. And with the male staff being down to just Mosely (part-time), Andrew, and Bates, Thomas had to perform duties that Mr. Carson would probably have found beneath the dignity of a butler. Still, _they would manage._ Carson was surprisingly patient as he progressed in his tutelage, and Thomas was eager to learn. The days passed quickly.

Finally the day came when Mr. Carson knew he could teach him no more. He called Thomas into the butler’s pantry, and closed the door.

“Today is the day I hand you the keys, Mr. Barrow. Today you will take my place in the long line of men who have dedicated their lives to Downton Abbey. May you find satisfaction in serving this noble household, as I always have. May you bring honor to the post.”

“_Thank you,_ Mr. Carson. I shall do my _very best_ to live up to your legacy. Though I doubt anyone ever could. You are a tough act to follow.” Thomas said this with an air of formality, but he couldn’t help the obvious fondness that crept into his voice.

“Thomas, if I may speak freely for a moment?” Carson asked.

“Certainly, sir.”

“I know we haven’t always seen eye-to-eye in the past, and I may not have always been as understanding as I could have been. I want you to know that it was never _personal._ I was trying to toughen you up, make you stronger. I knew life wouldn’t be easy for you. I wanted to teach you _resilience_. I regret if it ever came off as being _unkind_. This family has put their faith and trust in you, and that’s good enough for me.”

A wave of affection crested through Thomas’s chest. “_That means a great deal to me,_ coming from you, Mr. Carson. And I want you to know that I have only the utmost respect and admiration for you. You’ve been like a father to me.” Thomas extended his hand. Carson shook it.

Thomas hesitated for only a moment, before he stepped forward and embraced Carson in a brief but heartfelt hug, Carson patting him on the back stiffly but affectionately.

“_**Hmph,**_ yes, well, _hmph_. This is goodbye, then. You know where to find me if you have any questions. And Barrow, if anyone ever asks, I will deny that ever happened.”

Thomas smiled broadly.

“Of course, Mr. Carson.”


	33. The Sword of Damacles

The weather the following day was mild but pleasant. It was the rare kind of perfect summer day that caused people to smile at strangers on the street and say “_Lovely weather we're having, isn’t it?_”

Thomas stood at attention at his post in the morning room, overseeing the men eating their breakfast. 

“_Barrow_," Lord Grantham intoned, addressing Thomas directly, "the family was considering a walk around the estate today. Would you ask Mrs. Patmore to prepare a picnic lunch for six?”

“Certainly, m’lord.”

“And Barrow, we would like _you_ to accompany us.”

“_With all due respect_, Your Lordship, surely a _footman_ would suffice? I was planning to inventory the silver this afternoon.”

_“The silver can wait,_ Barrow. I insist that it be _you_. You've been quite industrious as of late. A little fresh air will do you good. Please be ready by one. Oh - and _Barrow?_”

“M’lord?”

“Go down to the cellars and choose a bottle of our best champagne. Make sure it’s in the hamper for our picnic.”

“A celebration, m’lord? A _happy_ occasion, I hope.”

_“I think it will be,”_ Lord Grantham agreed. 

  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

By mid-morning, the post had arrived. A letter from London sat on top, addressed to Thomas. His heart raced. He hurried through his morning tasks, anxious to be finished so that he could hide away in his office, savoring the moment he had been waiting for for weeks. He knew that he held _the most precious words in the world_ in his hands. He held the letter unopened for many minutes as the butterflies in his stomach fluttered unabated. He breathed deeply, _(in and out, in and out)_ trying to get his heartbeat under control.

Suddenly a thought forced its way unbidden into Thomas’s mind._ What if he’s writing to end it?_ While Thomas had no prospects here at Downton, he knew that there was _no end_ of potential partners in London. Richard could have his pick of a _thousand_ other men. _Why would he settle for him?_ As long as the letter remained unopened, it remained a bundle of potential. Once opened, it had the power to bring his world crashing down around him. He knew things had been going too well for him lately…. fate was sure to catch up to him. _The Sword of Damacles*_ was always swinging just overhead, ready to cut his heart out. His hands shook as he tore open the seal.

> _My Darling~_
> 
> _I was so proud to hear of your promotion at Downton Abbey, but I am not surprised. It would seem that everyone else is finally seeing what I see in you. If only I could celebrate with you properly._
> 
> _It is with deepest regret that I must tell you that I will be unreachable for a while. I’m sure you have heard that His Majesty is embarking on an ambitious tour of the Commonwealth, including India and Australia**, and I will be gone these many months leading up to the holidays. My only consolation is that I expect to be home in time to attend Lady Edith’s wedding, to which His Lordship has so graciously invited me. I know it will be a day to celebrate the love of Edith and Lord Hexham, but I believe that it is my own love that will be foremost in my mind. _
> 
> _Do not despair of this separation, my dearest. You are never far from my thoughts. I will carry your memory to the furthest corners of the earth, and write your name in the sand as it is written on my heart. Keep busy and the time will fly. Be assured of my unending affection for you. Our time will come._
> 
>   
_Yours Devotedly,_
> 
> _R_
> 
> _P.S. By the time you read this, I will have gone. Be strong, my love. _

Thomas re-read the letter a hundred times before he carefully tucked it away inside his pocket. He pulled out the pendant that he carried with him always, a silver disc with the royal crest, and held it up to his lips.

_“Til New Year’s_,” he whispered.

With that, he got up and made ready to accompany the family on a picnic. _His heart wasn’t in it. _  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * The Sword of Damocles: _Imminent danger or trouble._ In Greek mythology, the courtier Damocles was forced to sit beneath the sword suspended by a single hair to emphasize the instability of a king's fortunes. Usually used in the phrase "the sword of Damocles hangs over (one's) (head)."
> 
> ** This has no basis in historical fact. I just made it up.


	34. The Cottage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is how I pictured the cottage:
> 
> https://drive.google.com/file/d/1ewsivwHbCQQeCMR281qTNUD2cTjN4bjP/view?usp=drivesdk
> 
> (sorry - I can't seem to figure out the embedding links thing!)
> 
> And even though we made it to the "Big Reveal," the story isn't over! I'll hope you'll hang on with me a little longer! And thank you so much for your lovely comments... they mean more to me than you'll ever know.

Thomas met the family promptly at one, picnic hamper in hand. It was quite heavy, _which was probably why I was invited to come_, he thought. Surely the family was capably of serving themselves on a _picnic_, after all.

They set out on their walk; Lord and Lady Grantham, Lady Mary, Henry, and Tom. He walked respectfully behind as is befitting a servant. 

When the path curved towards the formal gardens, the family continued to walk straight. Thomas was confused. There was nothing on the north side of the estate that was particularly picturesque or welcoming. The ground was uneven and the woods were dense, suitable primarily for hunting, not picnic-ing. The only thing out this way was an old gardener’s cottage, which was nothing more than a run-down old shack. 

It didn’t take long to come upon the cottage, but Thomas didn’t recognize it at first. In place of the decrepit hovel, there was a prim little cottage that looked like something off the cover of a chocolate box. It was surrounded by trees. The windows and roof had been replaced, a small garden of wildflowers had been planted, and ivy grew charmingly up the walls. Thomas also noticed an electrical wire connected to roof’s gable, extending north a short way before meeting a pole. “_That definitely was not there before_,” he thought.

The family approached the cottage, with Lord Grantham unlocking the door. As they all went in, Thomas hung behind. He believed that this was just a brief detour before they continued on to their final picnic destination.

“_Are you coming_, Barrow?” Lord Grantham called out from the cottage. Thomas picked up the hamper, and stepped inside.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The inside of the cottage was even more surprising. It was clean and freshly painted. There was a small kitchen with running water, and a bathroom with a large claw-foot tub. There was a large fireplace with a mantle, and a pair of what appeared to be brand-new upholstered chairs on either side. The wooden floor was covered with a large oval rug, which made it cozy and rustic. A wooden table with four chairs sat by the window, a large vase of freshly cut stems serving as the centerpiece. Someone had been here very recently.

“Oh Papa, isn’t is _charming_?” cooed Lady Mary. 

“It certainly is! You’ve outdone yourselves, ladies! Tom, _excellent_ work on the renovations. Cora, Mary, the décor is _delightful_. Let’s see the rest! Barrow, _put that basket down_ and join us.”

Mary led the way to another room off the main sitting room, which was the bedroom. Inside was a smaller fireplace, two wardrobes, a bureau, two bedside tables, and a grand four-poster bed, as large as anything found in Downton Abbey. Two large windows with prim curtains looked out into nothing but lush forest. It was the most idyllic cottage Thomas had ever seen. Whoever would be renting this cottage was lucky indeed. It didn’t seem exactly large enough for a _family_, though, owing to the fact that there was only one (truly _enchanting_) bedroom. 

_“Let’s have lunch,”_ Lord Grantham suggested. Thomas spread out the food on the table, and they all began to eat. He didn’t see the lesser fare that was customarily included for the servant’s meal inside the hamper. 

“Excuse me, Your Lordship, but didn’t you request a picnic for six? Who is the sixth?”

“You are, Barrow. _Grab a plate!” _

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

When lunch was complete, Lord Grantham asked that the champagne be served. Thomas poured five glasses, and handed one to each of them. “_Pour one more_, Barrow,” Lord Grantham demanded. He did not question why.

“Barrow, what do _you_ think of this cottage?” Lady Grantham asked. 

“I think that whoever ends up renting it will be very pleased, m’lady. You’re to be congratulated. You’ve done a _marvelous_ job with it, it's been _completely transformed_.”

“What a _relief _to hear you say that, Barrow!” Lady Mary added, “because I think I speak for all of us when we say that we hope you’ll be _very happy_ here.”

“Excuse me, m’lady? _Me_?”

“That’s right, Thomas. This cottage is _yours_ now, for as long as you remain at Downton. Consider it a _perk_ of your new position. You may move in whenever you like. Of course you’re free to remain in the main house as well, whenever that’s more convenient for you. We wanted to afford you a bit of privacy.”

Thomas stood practically paralyzed with shock. He could never, _in his wildest dreams_, have imagined that he would have a home of his own, and certainly not one as wonderful as this. He was overcome with emotion, and he could feel the tears starting to well up in his eyes, even as he willed them away. Lord Grantham swooped in to rescue him from himself.

“I propose a toast!” he exclaimed, as everyone raised their glass. He picked up the sixth glass and handed it to Thomas.

“To the new butler of Downton Abbey, _Mr. Thomas Barrow! _ May his partnership with us be mutually enriching, and his life long and healthy. And to _new beginnings_, in his _new home_. May it be always filled with happiness and love!” 

They all responded, “_to Barrow!_” and clinked their glasses. 

Thomas remained dazed as if in a stupor. Finally, he spoke through the tears that he couldn’t keep from falling.

“I can never, _in a hundred lifetimes,_ repay the kindness that has been shown me by this family. I am so truly _touched _that you would do this for me. Please know that my gratitude extends to the very depths of my soul. I can’t even _begin _to.....” and with this, he could go no further. He lowered his head, and covered his eyes with his hand, and wept. Lord Grantham gently took his arm, and guided him into the bedroom, closing the door behind them. He waited patiently as Barrow composed himself. Within a few minutes, Thomas had managed to calm down.

“_I’m so sorry_, Your Lordship. It’s been an emotional few weeks. And then _this_... this is just....”

“Have you had news from Richard, Thomas?”

“I have. He is accompanying His Majesty on his Pacific Tour. He will be unreachable until the holidays. Until Lady Edith’s wedding, if he returns in time.”

“Oh Thomas. _I’m so sorry_, my boy.”

Thomas hadn’t heard Lord Grantham call him _“my boy”_ since they left Manchester. It was a term of endearment that he reserved only for their time alone. He knew that appearances had to be maintained. Still, it was comforting to know that his affection was genuine.

“Thomas, listen to me. The _whole family_ was behind the idea to give you this cottage. They know about you, and they embrace you as you are. They -**_we-_** want you to happy.”

“And when you said that you hoped that this cottage would be filled with _love_, did you mean....”

“_Yes_, Thomas. We _did_ mean. When the time comes, when you’re ready to share your life with someone, it is our hope that this cottage will be your home. I promised you that I would always do my best to keep you safe.”

“You can't _know_ what that means to me. That's _not supposed to happen_ for people like me. I can _never thank you enough_...”

“You can thank me by never, _ever_, thinking of taking your own life again, and by promising that you will keep the lines of communication open between us. You know I have to keep up appearances, keep up the whole "_dog and pony show,_" but know that _deep down_, the way I was in London with you is the _real me_. And I meant every word I said."

"Thank you, sir. _Thank you so very much._"

Lord Grantham put his arm around Thomas' shoulder and gave it a squeeze. 

"Now let's go out and have some champagne.

*** * * * * * * * * * * * * * ***

When they exited the cottage, Lord Grantham handed Thomas the keys. Thomas took one more look around his beautiful new home and could think of only one thing: **_Richard._**


	35. Deck the Halls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a tiny conjunctional blurb to get us where we need to be... the FINAL CHAPTERS! We're so close now... I'm getting sad. Thanks for hanging out with me!

Spring blossomed into Summer, and Summer breezed into Fall. There was no rest for the men of Downton Abbey. With Mosely taking on additional teaching responsibilities at the school, Thomas and Andrew carried the weight of the household on their shoulders. _Thank God for Andy._ He may have started out a bit wary of Thomas in the beginning, but he had proven himself to be an excellent worker and a loyal friend. They made a good team. The fact that he was instrumental in saving Thomas’s life seemed only to have cemented their bond. Thomas only wished he could lighten Andy’s load by hiring another footman. The money just wasn’t there (which made Thomas feel a bit guilty, since he knew the renovations and the furnishings of his cottage (**_his _**cottage- _he would never tire of saying that_) must have cost the family a pretty penny.

Thomas still couldn’t believe his good fortune. He had spent his life at war with the world, trying to learn people’s secrets while hiding his own. Being malicious, _conniving_. He knew what he was doing, how he was being. He _deserved_ their contempt. But when the chips were down, they rallied around him, and enveloped him with their care and concern. And it _changed him_. It taught him the meaning of **_family_**… something he never learned at home. He almost lost everything – his very _life_ – by being the way he was. He had nothing to lose by trying another way. And being open to friendship and kindness in his life had brought him _everything he had ever wanted_… relationships with people who wanted to _protect_, not hurt him, a promotion, closure with his father, and the opportunity to build a life, _a **home**_**,** with the man he loved. It was all too good to be true. There was only one piece of the equation that was still unsettled. _Richard._ He hadn’t seen or spoke to him in _months_. Were three weeks of friendship and two days of passion really enough to hold his interest? With Richard gone and unreachable, Thomas sometimes let his mind wander into the darkest places, where Richard got lost at sea or fell in love in some far-away land, never to return. Hell, it didn’t even have to _be_ a far-away land. Richard could fall in love in _London_. What was that saying? _Out of sight, out of mind?_ (Richard would know it- he’s the philosopher). With all that had gone right, Richard was the _one_ thing that could go terribly, horribly wrong. Thomas tried to hold fast to the promises they had made to each other - _Our time will come. Be strong, my love. It will all be OK. _He replayed them over and over in his mind.

_* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *_

As the holidays approached, preparations at Downton reached a fever pitch. There were the traditional Christmas trimmings to contend with, of course, but the wedding preparations added another layer of stress. It was “_all hands to the pump_,” as Mrs. Hughes would say. The thought of seeing Richard soon drove Thomas to distraction. He wanted their reunion to be perfect. He brought a small Christmas tree into the cottage, and decorated it with popcorn and cranberries. He cut holly from the bushes that grew wild in the woods. He placed candles throughout the cottage to make it look warm and inviting (_What on earth have I become? The December issue of **A Ladies’ Home Companion**? Jesus Christ_). All that was left to do was to _wait._

_* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *_

On the morning of New Year’s Eve, Downton Abbey was _finally_ ready for the big event. With the family already gone, the staff attended to the final details before heading to the village church. Thomas knew that he should probably stay behind to watch over the house and greet any early-arriving guests, but he wanted to show his support. Lady Edith had suffered so much to get to this day, and he had practically grown up with her. He would be _damned_ if he would miss her moment of triumph.

Thomas slid into the pew next to Bates and Anna. He scanned the crowd, but saw no sign of Richard. He had no idea if he would be here.... a _thousand_ things could go wrong to delay a voyage at sea. As the music began to play, he found it hard to hide his crushing disappointment. _He knew it was too good to be true. _

A few minutes into the service he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder.

“Excuse me, _is this seat taken_?” whispered a voice to his left.

Thomas turned and came face-to-face with the most beautiful smile and warmest eyes he had ever seen. 


	36. Just Breathe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn that I have to work for a living! Please accept this offering of a little snippet until I can properly sit down and lose myself in their reunion. And please accept my apologies!

Richard slid into the pew next to Thomas. The two stared straight ahead, eyes fixed on the bride and groom, as the bishop pontificated on the nature of love (_Love is patient, Love is kind…._). Thomas struggled to get his breath, as it seemed that all the air had gone out of his lungs (_is it hot in here? Fuck- I’m burning up…I’m melting…_). Every cell in his body wanted to turn to Richard and take him into his arms… to bury his face in his neck… to inhale deeply of his _scent_. (_….can everyone tell I’m dying?....**oh my God** –help me). _ He placed his hand on the pew between them, next to where Richard’s hand already lay. He felt the feathersoft touch of Richard’s pinkie finger brushing against his own. It sent a lightning bolt of electricity through his body (…._just breathe…. in and out, in and out…). _Almost imperceptibly, Richard’s finger began to gently stroke the side of Thomas’s hand. To Thomas, it was the most tender and erotic touch he had ever known. His body responded all on its own (_will anyone see? …. thank God for this coat…._), even as Thomas knew that it would be endless hours before they would have an opportunity to be alone.

As Edith and Bertie made their way out of the church to the rapturous applause of the villagers, Thomas turned briefly to Richard. Their eyes met, and he willed that Richard feel all of his love… all of his _need_, with that one look. He prayed he could. “I have to hurry. The servants have to be back at the house before the guests arrive. _I will see you there_?” Thomas blurted out, much too desperately.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Richard asked.

“You’re a _gues_t today. It wouldn’t be proper. Go congratulate His Lordship. He’ll be tickled to see you. I have to run.” He bit his bottom lip, gazing down at Richard’s mouth, as if to say “_I would kiss you if I could.”_

“_Go on, then!_” Richard smiled (_God, he’s **gorgeous**_). “I’ll see you at the Abbey.”

Thomas hurried off to catch up to the others, who were already halfway down the road.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


	37. Happy New Year

Unfortunately for Thomas, the day was a non-stop buzz of activity. He was on his feet _constantly_, serving hors d’oeuvres, pouring drinks, inspecting the buffets, and tending to the guests in whatever way that was required. He was acutely aware of Richard’s presence, but he was not free to engage with him. A good servant blended in with the woodwork, after all… _seen_ but not _heard_. It would have been unseemly for him to appear be _fraternizing_ with the guests, and would have reflected poorly on the family. He would never allow that to happen.

Late in the evening, the Marquess and Marchioness of Hexham (Edith and Bertie) set off for their honeymoon to the cheers of the assembled crowd. Once gone, the house began to empty out, as guests hurried home to ring in the New Year with their families. Lord and Lady Grantham, Lady Mary, Henry and Tom retired to the drawing room, but not before Lord Grantham wandered over to Richard and put his arm around his shoulders in a gesture of fond familiarity. “Come join us for a drink, Mr. Ellis!” he encouraged, “we’re all anxious to hear of your royal _exploits_ overseas!” 

“It would be my pleasure, Your Lordship,” Richard replied, following him in.

“Barrow- make sure the staff have plenty to drink downstairs, then fetch us more champagne,” Robert requested.

“_Yes m’Lord_,” he replied. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Thomas returned with the champagne, and stood silently in the corner as Richard held the family in thrall with his animated tales of high adventure and intrigue as part of the royal entourage. They all asked him many questions, and laughed at his entertaining anecdotes and impressions of foreign princes. He was _charming_ and _fun_, and Thomas was filled with a mix of pride and jealous longing to have him all to himself. Yet he remained silent, and tried to look _indifferent _(he was failing).

“_Goodness_,” Lady Mary gushed, “I had no idea we had such a _celebrity_ in our midst! I do hope you’ll be _staying_, Mr. Ellis! We should _love_ to hear more of your adventures! We’ll have Mrs. Hughes make up a room for you!” 

Thomas’s heart froze in his chest. _This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. _His mind began a furious recalculation of his plans… _he could stay in the main house tonight, and sneak up to Richard’s room, and…_.

Richard, who had no idea _where_ he was spending the night, was at a loss for words. “_That’s very kind_, Lady Mary, and I thank you for your hospitality, but I _really_ must be...”

“What Mr. Ellis is saying,” Lord Grantham interrupted, “is that he has a previous engagement and must be leaving soon. Barrow, would you see to it that Mr. Ellis gets to where he needs to be tonight? Oh, and _Barrow?_ Excellent job, today, _cracking good show! _Give our compliments to the staff. And while you're at, why don't you take tomorrow off? I'm sure we can manage without you for one day."

_(God bless you, Robert. Have I ever told you I love you? I do. I love you.)_

“_As you wish_, m’Lord. “If you _would_, Mr. Ellis,” as he gestured toward the door.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Thomas led Richard down to the servant’s hall, where the celebration was well underway. He introduced him as a friend of the family and _His Majesty’s Dresser, _just returned from serving the King on his Commonwealth tour. The staff took to him immediately, as he won them over with his easy smile and boyish charm. Thomas was in awe of the way that he flowed so easily between family and staff and fit in with them _all_, as if he belonged to both worlds. He was imminently approachable, and kind, and it attracted people to him like moths to a flame. Thomas had a momentary feeling of panic that someone like Richard could never love _him_… Richard was _too good_. He shook those thoughts off and tried to join in the festivities.

At 11:59 everyone took a glass of champagne in hand, and began the countdown to the New Year. At the stroke of midnight, everyone cheered “_Happy New Year!_” Couples all turned to one another and kissed: Anna and Bates, Andy and Daisy, Mrs. Hughes and Carson (who was a guest, of course), Baxter and Mosely, and even Mr. Mason and Mrs. Patmore. Thomas and Richard stood awkwardly, turning to each other to smile and nod. 

“_Well, **go on** then!_” Mrs. Hughes said as she regarded them with kindness. 

Thomas turned to Richard, and in front of the whole staff of Downton Abbey, _he kissed him right on the lips_. 

“_Happy New Year_,” he whispered, and then kissed him _again, _making it last just a little bit longer this time_. _

They parted, and looked over at Mr. Carson, who looked positively scandalized. 

Thomas laughed, the first _real_, genuinely _happy_ laugh he'd had in ages at Downton Abbey. "_Happy New Year, Mr. Carson_," he offered, trying to stifle his glee.

"Yes, well, **_hmph_**...indeed... yes.... _Happy New Year_, Thomas."

Richard put his arm around Thomas's shoulders, and pulled him in close, as Mrs. Hughes began a chorus of _Auld Lang Syne._

When all the good wishes were shared, and the dishes cleared away, Thomas took Richard's hand, and led him out the door, and towards the woods.


	38. Surprise!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will probably be it for today, another tiny one, but I didn't want to leave you hanging! Thank you again for all the lovely comments! They give me life.

Richard and Thomas giggled the whole way as they stumbled towards the edge of the forest. 

“_Did you see Carson’s face??”_ Thomas laughed. “That was worth _everything!_”

Richard stopped him and wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling him tightly against him.

“I have _no idea_ where you’re taking me, but I’ve been waiting _all day_ to do this,” he purred, as he took Thomas’s face into both of his hands, and kissed him tenderly on his mouth. Gentle kisses gave way to deep, passionate ones, as the urgency between them began to mount. 

“_Are you going to make me take you right here in the cold, then_?” Richard laughed, strategically grinding his hips against Thomas's. “I assumed you might try to sneak me into an empty servant’s room, but I didn’t bargain for ‘_love under the stars._’ I would have dressed _warmer_, for one thing.” He buried his face in Thomas’s neck, and sucked little love bites on his skin. 

“_Do **not** leave a mark on me_, Mr. Ellis! I am a _professional_ gentleman's gentleman – could you just _imagine_ the scandal? At least not anywhere that _shows_.” Thomas said this mock-seriously while practically _melting_ into the snow beneath his feet.

“I can’t wait much longer, love... _please_ tell me where we’re going,” Richard begged.

“It’s a _surprise!_ We’re almost there... “ Thomas replied. When they had walked several hundred feet further into the woods, Thomas stopped and faced him, kissing the tip of his nose. “Close your eyes now. You’ll have to trust me. _No peaking!”_

“I _promise_,” Richard assured him. “Mmmm... _do you smell that?_ There’s a _fire_ somewhere nearby... I smell wood burning.”

“_Mmmm-hmmm...._” was all Thomas said in return, as he carefully led Richard up to the cottage door. He quietly opened it, and led them both inside. In the hearths (both in the main room and in the bedroom) fires were gently crackling* and cozy warm. 

_“Open your eyes!”_ Thomas urged excitedly.

Richard’s face was filled with wonder. As he took in the entire cottage, his eyes were wide and he looked like a child who had wandered into Santa’s workshop.

“_What is this magical place?_” he asked, his voice full of awe. 

Thomas finished lighting the candles, and took Richard’s hand, leading him into the bedroom.

“_It’s our home_,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * earlier in the evening, Thomas gave Andy several shillings to run out to the cottage and light the fires. He would have done it himself, but he couldn't get away.


	39. Trouble in Paradise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Thomas... the road to happiness is always bumpy.

“Our _home_? _Our _home?” Richard repeated, clearly in a state of shocked confusion. 

“Yes, well…. it’s _my_ home, anyway, with the clear expectation that you would join me… _someday_… when you’re….ready to put down… roots?” Thomas said tentatively. “You’re _scaring_ me, Richard… are you _angry_?”

“What? _No! _ I just…. I just can’t _believe_ it…. you DID it! I leave you alone for six months and you made all your dreams come true…. You’re _a fucking marvel _is what you are_!_”

He looked around the bedroom, with its cozy fire and giant four-poster bed. It was almost too much to take in.

“This is more than I could have ever imagined… I thought you were taking me out to the _stables_. And then you bring me into this …this….. _fairy tale cottage_…. and then you tell me that it’s _ours_…. I don’t know what to say.”

“S_ay that you’ll stay with me,_” Thomas said softly. “I didn’t _do_ anything, Richard, this was _all_ Lord Grantham…..the whole family, really. Even the staff… they have embraced me, for some reason, and now apparently _you_, too, and they promised me a place where we could live out our lives in privacy and safety. I don’t see how we could do any better than this.”

“Do you see how lucky you are, to have someone like Lord Grantham on your side? _Jesus_, I hope you’ll be kissing Robert’s ass for the rest of his life….”

“Actually I was hoping I’d be kissing _your_ ass by now,” Thomas laughed. “Can we continue this conversation _tomorrow?_” he asked as he began unbuttoning Richard’s shirt.

“I’m sorry, my darling. It’s just that it’s… all so _real_ now. It’s _happening_. And I was gone so long, I didn’t have time to make plans, or find a job….or….”

“Do you _need_ a job right away? It won’t cost you anything to live here, and I make _more_ than enough to support….”

“No,” Richard replied. “_I need a job_.”

“If you were my _wife_ and you lived here, you wouldn’t feel like you needed a job,” Thomas reasoned.

“I’m not your _wife_, Thomas, _Jesus Christ_.”

“I _know_. I’m just _saying_…. OK, then, if I were _your_ wife…..”

“Then _I _would be the husband and I would have no problem supporting you.”

“So you see _me_ as the wife in this situation? _You _can support _me_ but _I_ can’t support _you?”_

_“Neither one of us_ is the wife, Thomas, fucking _hell, _we’re _men!” _Richard protested. “I love you, but I have my pride. You wouldn’t respect me if I lounged around the cottage all day while you worked from morning till night. Your vocation is secured, but now I have to find mine. I_ need a purpose_, Thomas…. I need to work. Let me keep my dignity.”

Thomas’s eyes were misty, and he swallowed down hard to keep from crying. These were the first sharp words that he and Richard had exchanged. It hurt. He had such romantic notions of how this night would go. But he understood how Richard was feeling. “_OK_,” was all he could manage to say.

“Oh my darling… my love… _I’m so sorry_. I’ve ruined your surprise. Come _here_.” Richard pulled Thomas over to him and began to undress him, kissing every part of his body as it became exposed. Finally, when they were both undressed, he laid Thomas on the bed and kneeled above him.

“Look at you. You’re fucking perfect. _How I love you._”

Thomas rolled over and retrieved a tin of petroleum jelly from the bedside table, tossing it to Richard.

“_Show me_.”


	40. Stay With Me (Reprise)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little moment in time...

Thomas’s face collapsed into Richard’s shoulder blades, riding out the last gasps of his pleasure. Sweat dripped from his brow. When his heart rate had returned to a reasonable pace, he lavished soft kisses on his neck and shoulder, and withdrew. They both scrambled to get back under the down comforter. The fires had gone out overnight, and the cottage was cold.

They held each other for a long time, staring into each other’s eyes, breathing the same air. The concerns of last night were still there, but a bit fuzzier now. _Everything looks brighter in the light of day_. There was so much love between them that Thomas knew that they would overcome any obstacles that would dare try to keep them apart. “_Stay with me,_” his eyes seemed to say. 

Finally they rose, and bathed, and rebuilt the fires to warm the cottage. Richard was able to see it in all its glory now, complete with Thomas’s holiday trimmings and surrounding woodlands. He stepped outside to inhale deeply the crisp, clean air.

“A man can _breathe_ here,” he sighed. Thomas joined him, wrapping his arms around him from behind and resting his forehead on his back. “_Stay with me_,” he whispered.

Thomas returned to the cottage to make breakfast for them both, while Richard combed the woods for broken limbs and twigs to add to the fires. “I’ll need to get an axe,” he thought.

The afternoon wore on in a sleepy idyll, with Richard and Thomas each sitting in a chair by the hearth, warming their feet and sipping tea. Richard dozed off, and Thomas rose to gently cover him with a wool throw. He gazed at him adoringly and fell in love all over again. “_Stay with me_,” he prayed.

When evening came, they walked into the village and ate dinner at the pub. Richard told Thomas some of the more off-color stories from his time overseas, and they laughed and laughed, and remembered how they came to be friends in the first place. They walked together down the road, a respectable distance apart, until they left the path and went into the woods, where their hands found each other’s, and they walked hand-in-hand to the cottage, laughing as they tried to find their way in the dark. When they finally arrived outside the door, Richard smiled at Thomas and said “_We’re home_.” Thomas beamed.

When at last they fell into each other’s arms, exhausted and sated, Richard kissed Thomas long and deep and whispered, “_I want to stay with you._”

Thomas kissed him back with all the love in his heart and replied, “_We’ll find a way_.”

* * * * * * * *

The next morning, Richard was on the train to London, and Thomas was back to his post as the butler of Downton Abbey.


	41. "Strategy Meetings"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... we've had our big reunion (I hope you liked it!), but I still have a little bit more to say. I promise this won't just go on and on forever because I like to hear myself talk! There's a purpose to these last few chapters... I promise! And thank you again for your kindness!

The atmosphere among the staff had changed since Thomas and Richard’s New Year’s kiss. For one thing, Thomas was genuinely _happy, _and it showed. He took a sincere interest in the staff conversations around the table in the servant’s hall, and joined in when they played cards or other games. He was liberal with praise, and offered to lend a hand whenever needed. 

Bates was sure to call attention to the change; “I _knew_ it,” he snickered, but there was no bite to it. Thomas just laughed along and replied, “_Right_ you are, Mr. Bates. You_ called it!_”

* * * * * * * * * *

Lord Grantham called Thomas up to the library for what he was now calling their “strategy meetings*.” It was just an excuse for Robert and Thomas to touch base every week, and catch each other up on what was going on. At these “meetings,” Lord Grantham was just _Robert_, and Barrow was just _Thomas._ All the formality of their usual interactions was dropped.

Lord Grantham even suggested that every so often, their “strategy meeting” be held down at the Grantham Arms, complete with a dinner of fish and chips. Sometimes the “meeting” would be held while walking the grounds. And every so often, Robert suggested that they meet at the cottage, where they would have a beer and play poker just for fun. 

It was at the first of their “strategy meetings” (only a day or so after New Year’s) that Robert asked Thomas how it all went.

“I don’t mean to pry, my boy, but it was such a big surprise, we were all on the edge of our seat wondering what Richard thought! Of course the others didn’t know who Richard _was_ until after the two of you left. I didn’t want to betray your confidence. They were quite taken with him!”

“_Everyone who meets him_ is taken with him, Robert. He just has that _way_ about him. He draws people in. The thing is, he takes a lot of pride in what he does… in being so close to the King. His work gives him purpose, and he’s afraid that without it, he would lose what makes him special. And he won’t even consider coming to live with me unless he has meaningful work and can contribute towards our expenses. He wants to pay you rent, even though you didn’t ask for it. “

“He’s a good man, Thomas, an _honorable_ man. You can’t fault him for that.”

“I don’t, but it will be what keeps us apart in the end. There’s no work for him here. He’s afraid that if he found a job in the village, people would ask questions about where he lives, and why he’s not married. The more people that know about us, the higher the risk of trouble. We just want a quiet life.”

“I’d give him a job myself, but I think it’s a bit beneath him to be a _footman_, which is what we really need. I’ll keep my eye out, though. Don’t give up hope, my boy,” Lord Grantham encouraged, giving Thomas’s forearm a firm pat, “Where there’s a w….”

“…_ will there’s a way?_ Thomas finished, laughing. “I’ve heard that before.”

“It hasn’t failed us yet, has it?” Robert asked, eyes smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * I get the feeling that Robert really just likes having a friend.


	42. The King's Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A disclaimer that nothing contained in this chapter is historically or culturally accurate, nor is it canon-compliant in any way.

In early Spring, an official-looking envelope arrived at Downton Abbey from Buckingham Palace, announcing that the King and Queen would soon be staying at Downton for a night and two days during their Royal Tour of Yorkshire. The news sent the household, both above and below stairs, into a frenzy.

In the days and weeks leading up to the visit, every stem of crystal, every silver candlestick was polished until they sparkled. When the day finally arrived, Downton was putting its best foot forward. The family and staff all stood at attention as the caravan of cars carrying the monarchs and their entourage arrived. They bowed and curtsied as is fitting (except for Mosely, who for some reason forgot himself and curtsied, too), and followed the procession inside. 

Down in the servant’s hall, the royal entourage was antagonizing Downton’s staff. Thomas wondered if he should intervene, but he had every confidence that his staff could hold their own. Satisfied, he retreated to the butler’s pantry, asking Mr. Ellis if he would please accompany him so that plans could be finalized for the dinner protocols.

Richard followed Thomas inside the office and closed the door. The two stood staring at each other, exchanging no words. This meeting was different than the reunion in the church… it was more measured, less frantic. They had shared everything with each other for one glorious day in January, and it changed the dynamic between them. Thomas believed that he had laid all his cards on the table…offered up all that he had to give, and it was up to Richard to decide what the next move would be. Their eyes said everything and nothing, and Thomas waited.

Richard stepped forward, running his fingers through Thomas’s hair. Thomas softened to his touch, his breathing becoming labored. He couldn’t control his body’s involuntary reaction to Richard’s presence. But still, he said nothing.

“_I’m here_,” Richard breathed.

“_Are_ you?” Thomas answered, his eyes searching. It pained him to be so cold, but he was hurting, too. Every day that Richard stayed away was another knife in his heart.

“I just need a little more time. I convinced the King to stay at Downton because I wanted… _needed_.. to see you. Please don’t give up on me…. on _us_.”

Thomas reached up to the hand in his hair and held it against his cheek. He stepped closer to Richard and put his face next to his own, breathing deeply of his scent. He brushed his lips feather-soft against Richard’s, without kissing him. 

_“As if I ever could,”_ he said, barely over a whisper.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

After Their Majesties got settled in, the Queen joined Cora and the ladies for tea, while his Majesty, King George V, asked Robert to accompany him on a walk of the grounds under the guise of being interested in how such country estates were prospering in these post-war years. Robert happily obliged.

“Lord Grantham! _May I call you Robert?_ I find that it’s so much easier to relate to people when using their Christian names.”

“Certainly, Your Majesty. You may call me anything you like. I am your _loyal subject_.”

“Yes, that’s lovely, thank you, Robert. Now, I wondered if we could speak frankly for a moment. It’s concerning one of my staff, a Mr. Richard Ellis. _Do you know him_?” the King asked.

Robert’s mind flashed back for a moment to the silly school-boy shenanigans that he and Thomas were up to in London.

“I _do_, Your Highness. He’s an upstanding chap! We had the honor of his company at my daughter’s wedding on New Year’s Eve. He delighted us all.”

“I can’t help but wonder how he merited an invitation to such a personal event as your daughter’s wedding?” the King asked.

“Yes, well, I also had the pleasure of making his acquaintance in London last spring, when I was up for the Parliamentary session. He came as my guest to the club.”

“And how did he come to be your guest?” the King pressed.

“If you must know, he made the acquaintance of one of my own staff while walking in St. James’ Park. They became friends, and he introduced me. He was such a delight that I insisted he accompany us for dinner. And since his parents are local, I thought he could stop by the wedding if he was home for Christmas. May I ask why the inquiry? _Has he done something wrong?_”

“Oh goodness, _no_. It’s just that we’ve been together many years now, and we’re quite close. I’ve noticed that something’s _changed _as of late. He’s distracted, and pre-occupied. He doesn’t seem satisfied with his post. He hasn’t said so directly, but it all started after the new year. He had taken a few days off after the Commonwealth Tour to come to Yorkshire, which I assumed was to visit his aging parents. When he returned, he spoke endlessly about _Downton Abbey_, and that I should include it on my Yorkshire itinerary.”

“_Richard_ is responsible for your visit here?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so. Not that it isn’t lovely, Robert, _it is_. It just wasn’t on the list at first. Mr. Ellis, _Richard,_ as you call him, convinced me to add it. I assumed there must be someone here who has caught his fancy. A young _lady_, perhaps? He’s of the age where he would be wanting to settle down. I wondered if you might have any ideas about it.”

“I…can’t say that I recall any young _lady _catching his eye,” Robert said. “I can say that my butler, Mr. Barrow, is _quite fond_ of Mr. Ellis, and the feeling appears mutual. Perhaps he just wanted to see him again?” Robert tried his best to dance around the subject.

“When you say he is _quite fond_, what exactly are you _implying,_ Robert? Do you think he could be…. I mean… I often wondered if he was…..”

“Would it matter if he _was?_” Robert asked boldy. He may be the King’s loyal subject, but his protective fatherly instincts were kicking into high gear.

“You judge me too harshly, Robert. I’m not without a heart. Some of my most loyal friends have been…“

“_Homosexual_, Your Majesty? It’s _alright_… you can say it. We are speaking frankly, after all. And before I go on, is there any danger that this knowledge will be used against him?”

“Not at all. I daresay that several members of my family are _just the same_. I can’t help that the laws are as they are… you know that the monarch has no _actual power_ to influence legislative decisions. You have much more influence in that sphere than I do, Robert. Perhaps in due time our government can reconsider the appropriateness the laws concerning the behavior of _consenting adults_.”

“Yes, _just so_. Now back to Mr. Ellis, Your Majesty. Now that I am assured of your sympathies, perhaps I _do_ have some information that can shed light on your dilemma.”

“Go _on_….” the King urged.

“Mr. Ellis and Mr. Barrow met in London, and fell deeply in love. It nearly broke their hearts to be separated for the Commonwealth Tour. When they parted, they had pledged to find a way to reunite, to forge a life together in a hostile environment. Richard had expressed his love for the countryside, and a desire to relocate to Yorkshire to be near his parents. Our family had already made arrangements to present Mr. Barrow with a cottage on the estate to provide him with privacy and protection. When Richard came for the wedding, he stayed in the cottage with Mr. Barrow, and it gave them a taste of what their lives could be. The only thing holding Mr. Ellis back from staying was the fact that he would have to give up his job serving _you_. Being part of royal service is a large part of his identity and self-worth. He’s an honorable man, and he has his pride. He won’t leave without a proper job awaiting him. And he’s quite concerned that finding a job in the village would result in his exposure and possible arrest. It’s a valid concern.”

“I must say, Robert, I am surprised at your level of familiarity with their situation. How have you come to know this information?” the King asked.

“My man Barrow confides in me. He has no one else to talk to.”

“Then you _are_ a good man, Robert. Not many would be as understanding as yourself. I see that we are of one mind when it comes to helping our own. I too, would like to provide some relief in this situation. I think I have an idea.”

_“Your Majesty…?”_

“I can offer a position to Mr. Ellis as a special envoy to the Crown. He will be situated in Yorkshire, and be responsible for representing the needs of the region to my advisors. The pay is excellent, and the appointment is for life, at the discretion of the monarch. And of course it comes with a bit of prestige…not to mention a certain immunity on matters of a criminal nature, if you catch my meaning. Oh- it’s a _patronage position_ to be sure, a _plum_ if ever there was one. But what’s the point of being _King_ if I can’t reward my favorites? What do you think, Robert?”

“It sounds like an excellent plan! He could keep the prestige of being in royal service, while being able to live his life in Yorkshire. Could he stay here on the estate? Could he stay in the cottage with Barrow?”

“I don’t see why not, although you mustn’t quote me on that. I am the _head of the Church_, after all. There is a stipend for living expenses… we could forward it to you, Robert.”

“I wouldn’t accept it. The cottage was a gift. Include the stipend in his pay, if you must. He can decide how to spend it.”

“I think we’ve got ourselves a WIN-WIN situation, wouldn’t you say, Robert?” asked the King. Now I just have to propose it to him!”

“_Indeed_, Your Majesty. I think we do.” 

Robert wasn't sure who would be more excited- _Thomas_, or _himself_. 


	43. The Fairytale, Revisited

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are - the FINAL CHAPTER! (There will be one more, an EPILOGUE, to come). I hope I do these two justice! They deserve every happiness! 
> 
> Thank you all for joining me on this ride. I so appreciate all your kind words and kudos. Bless you all for your kindness!
> 
> Now go and spread love in the world.

Upstairs in the grandest suite of the Abbey, Richard straightened the King’s sash, and stood back to make sure that his medals were positioned properly on his chest. They were preparing for Downton’s first ever royal dinner.

“I can certainly see why you’ve been so enamored with this place, Ellis,” the King declared. “It’s quite impressive. The architecture alone is a _wonder_.”

“_Indeed_, Your Highness,” Richard agreed.

“Ellis, I find myself in a predicament. I wonder if you might offer some insight.”

“I am at your service, _as always_, Your Majesty,” Richard replied.

“I feel that I’ve been _out of touch_ as of late with the special concerns of my subjects. Times are changing… the economy has shifted… I’m not blind to the writing on the wall. I have need of someone who can spend time becoming familiar with the needs of the people. Someone to report back to me directly and also to my advisors. It would be a position of great personal importance to me.”

“_Your Majesty?_” Richard could feel the adrenaline begin coursing through his veins.

“You’re clever, Ellis. _Much too cleve_r to be wasted selecting my cufflinks and adjusting my cravat. Your talents are being squandered in London dressing me.”

“It has always been my _privilege_ to attend to you, Your Majesty. But what are you proposing?”

“I would like to offer you a position of Special Envoy to the Crown. The pay is excellent, and the hours predictable. It does involve more responsibility, of course, but I think you’re _more_ than capable.”

“I don’t know what to say, Your Majesty. It’s _an honor _to be found worthy in your eyes. It’s just that I have some …. _family considerations_…. that are weighing heavily on my heart. I don’t know that I could accept such a position, knowing that I would be of a divided loyalty. It wouldn’t be fair to you. I was actually waiting until after this tour to put in my notice. I have matters here in Yorkshire that are drawing me home. “

“Your _parents,_ yes. I know. Your filial devotion does you credit. They are lucky to have a son like you.”

“Yes, my parents. Among other things.”

“Your… _Mr. Barrow_, perhaps?” the King suggested.

Richard visibly stiffened.

“_My_ Mr. Barrow, Your Majesty? Whatever do you mean?”

“Come now, Ellis, how long have we known each other? Ten years? Eleven? Please be at ease with me. I am not the enemy.”

Richard inhaled deeply, then exhaled his nerves away. If ever he was to live his truth, now might be the time to start.

“It is as you say, Your Majesty. Mr. Barrow and I have forged a close bond. I wish to be…. In closer proximity….”

“And you would give up your entire career, your status as a member of the royal household, to be with your…_friend? _ He means that much to you?” the King asked.

Richard weighed his response carefully. “He _does,_ sire.”

“Oh, my boy. I remember those days! To be _young and in love!_ You’ll be happy to know that this position requires you to relocate. It is a Special Envoy to _Yorkshire_. It would require that you live _here.”_

_“HERE? _In _Yorkshire??_” Richard repeated, unable to believe what he was hearing.

“_Just so_. Lord Grantham has graciously offered Downton as a base of operations. A certain _cottage in the woods_, perhaps?”

Richard blushed with the connotation, but he didn’t care. All of his hopes were being realized. He could hardly contain his joy.

“It would entail the occasional trip to London, of course,” the King continued. “Perhaps a weekend in Balmoral now and again for the annual shoot. I want you to know that you no longer have to worry about being “caught out.” You and Mr. Barrow have nothing to fear. One call to my personal secretary and all will be forgotten. Just continue to use discretion, as you always have. What do you say, my boy?”

“I say _‘When can I start?’” _Richard replied, almost overcome with disbelief.

“You may start at the end of this tour. I will return to London, and you may remain in Yorkshire. I will have your personal effects sent up by royal courier.”

“I am _most grateful,_ Your Majesty. You will_ never_ know how much this means to me.” Richard gushed.

The King thought back to his own youthful affections. “Oh I think I have _some_ idea,” he smiled.

“Oh, and Ellis? I was thinking of announcing this at dinner tonight, where Barrow will hear. Do you think that would be alright?”

“I think it would be _perfect,_ Your Majesty,” he replied.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Thomas stood tall and proud as he maintained his wine pouring vigil at the dining table of the royal dinner. His face was the model of blank indifference, but inside he was as star-struck as Mosely (who was doing a decidedly _LESS _admirable job containing his excitement).

Lord Grantham opened the dinner by toasting to the King and Queen’s health. All assembled lifted their glasses in enthusiastic agreement.

The dinner progressed in polite conversation, which consisted mostly of inconsequential observations about the weather. The Dowager Countess managed to delight the King with her witty recollections of the Glory Days of the nobility. By all accounts, the dinner was an unqualified success.

Toward the end of the dessert course, the King cleared his throat. 

“I would like to take the opportunity to announce that I have made a decision to create a Special Envoy to the Crown, based right here in Yorkshire. He would represent your unique needs directly to my ear. It would be a benefit to you all that he would enjoy such an audience with me directly.”

The family all agreed that this was quite a fortunate development indeed.

“Do you have anyone in mind for the position, Your Majesty?” Lady Grantham inquired, innocently. 

“In fact I do,” the King replied. “My man Ellis is perfect for the job. His way with people is _quite_ extraordinary.” All agreed that Mr. Ellis was an inspired choice.

All the blood ran out of Thomas’s face. In fact, his legs felt that they would give out underneath him. He could no longer breathe, and his mind went completely blank. Lord Grantham took notice. He caught Thomas’s eye, and gave him a look that summoned him to his side. Thomas somehow managed to get there without collapsing on the floor.

“Barrow,” Lord Grantham whispered, trying to maintain an appropriate sense of decorum, “I seemed to have dropped my fork. Perhaps you could run downstairs and fetch me another one?”

Thomas stared directly at Lord Grantham’s fork, which was decidedly _not_ on the floor. He looked at Lord Grantham in confusion.

“I require a _new_ one, Thomas. _From the pantry_.”

Thomas finally caught on, and left the room with as much elegance as he could muster. Once outside the dining room, he literally _ran_ down the stairs.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Thomas burst into the butler’s pantry, where Richard stood, waiting. They hesitated for only a moment before Richard lunged forward, scooping Thomas into his arms, twirling him around. They were giddy with happiness.

“Is it _really true_? Are you coming to Yorkshire to _stay?”_ Thomas blurted out, unable to control his emotions at all.

“_It’s true_, my darling. I’m here f_or good!_” Richard cried, tears running down his cheeks. He gathered himself together, and took a deep breath, and dropped down on one knee. He took Thomas’s hands in his own, not caring at all who might walk by the door and see.

“Will you do me the honor of sharing your life with me, Thomas Barrow? Will you take my love and my devotion, for all your days?” 

Thomas, overcome with emotion, dropped to his knees as well, to better look Richard in the eye. 

“_I will!_” he cried, and met Richard’s lips in a kiss that conveyed all the hopes and dreams and frustration and love that had ever flowed between them.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

That evening, as the King was enjoying a cigar and a brandy with Lord Grantham in the library, he asked Lord Grantham to summon Thomas and Richard. 

When they entered the room, he motioned for them to approach. Thomas bowed deeply in respect.

The King put his hands out, in a gesture of request. Both Thomas and Richard put their left hands in his.

“I give you my blessing. May you live out your lives in love and happiness. Go, and be at peace.”

Tears were flowing from every eye in the room. That day would forever be the day that Thomas and Richard considered their “anniversary.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As they approached the cottage that night, after a long and emotional day, Thomas turned to Richard. 

“_Welcome Home_, Mr. Ellis. At long last.”

“I guess it’s true what they say, isn’t it?” Richard quipped. “_Good things come to those who wait._”

Thomas rolled his eyes as he smiled and took Richard’s face in his hands.

“_My beautiful philosopher_,” he whispered.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

**THE END**


	44. EPILOGUE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A peek into what comes next for Thomas and Richard after the events of _**A Place To Call His Own**_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to add your own ideas in the comments!

A brief peek into what came after the events of**_ A Place To Call His Own _**for Thomas and Richard.

  * Thomas was conducting interviews for the position of Junior Footman. A young man entered his office,looking a bit rough around the edges. It appeared that he may have even been living on the streets. He was nervous, and self-conscious, but there was something else about him that seemed familiar to Thomas. _He reminded him of himself._

“Trouble at home?” he asked him.

“My father put me out. I can never return. He won’t look at me.”

Thomas knew immediately what it was about the lad that made his father uncomfortable.

“You must work hard, and be respectful. I will not tolerate anything that would bring harm to this family. “

The boy nodded his agreement.

“Another thing. You do not have to hide who you are….you are safe here. We are a family ….we support each other. Do not be at war with the world. However- do not go looking for romance in this house- you will not find it. Mr. Ellis is particularly off limits, as am I. If you even so much as bat an eyelash at either of us, you will be asked to leave. Do you understand?”

He did. 

Young Daniel served the Crawley family honorably until the age of 25, when he fell in love with a traveling salesman and moved to London. Thomas proved to be a trusted mentor and confidante to him all his life.

  * Lord Grantham and Thomas continued to hold their “strategy meetings,” which now included Richard, and sometimes even Henry and Tom, (until he married Lucy, and became the master of his own estate). The meetings were always held in the cottage now, so that Lady Cora and Lady Mary were none the wiser. 
  * On their first Christmas together, Richard presented Thomas with a tiny bundle containing a 6-week old kitten, which Thomas named “Mittens.” Thomas rolled his eyes and asked if they could be any more cliché, but he secretly adored Mittens, and even brought her to the main house sometimes, where she would curl up by the fire with Lord Grantham’s Labrador.
  * Richard brought Thomas to York to meet his parents. After an awkward few minutes, Richard’s mother embraced Thomas and served him a plate of cookies. Richard’s father hugged his son and told him that he loved him no matter what his life choices were. Now they visit regularly, and are a happy family.
  * Philip* came to visit Downton about a year later. Thomas invited him to have drinks with him and Richard at the cottage, more to show off than anything else. Thomas thanked him for not taking him with him to be his valet all those years ago. They parted as friends.
  * Thomas’s father died a few years later. After the estate was settled, Thomas received quite a large sum of money. He and Richard pooled their resources, and bought the cottage and the land it sat on from Lord Grantham. And even though they could afford a much bigger house, they never left. They loved their cottage in the woods.
  * When Baxter and Mosley finally got married and had a baby, they named Thomas as the godfather. He was very fond of his godson, and eventually helped pay for him to attend university. 
  * Thomas remained the butler at Downton Abbey until his retirement at the age of 70. Young Master George grew up to be the new Earl of Grantham, and continued the “strategy meetings” with his trusted friend and advisor, Thomas.
  * When Lord Grantham died, Thomas visited his grave every week and placed a flower on his stone.
  * When Richard died, at the ripe old age of 84, Thomas died the very next day of a broken heart. Master George had them buried together in a single grave, “because that’s how they would’ve wanted to be.” They are now together in heaven, keeping watch over the descendents of the Crawley family in Downton Abbey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Thomas gave Daniel that day off. He did not trust Philip to behave honorably towards him. He did not want history to repeat itself.


End file.
